


Gren

by EruGhostCat



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Modern AU with Faunus, OC Kids - Freeform, Romance, Single Mom AU, Trauma, eventual domestic gays, everyone will be popping in and out, let them learn to be soft again, so many background ships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26578270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EruGhostCat/pseuds/EruGhostCat
Summary: Patch, the sunny little island where dreams go to die...or at least, that's what it was if you asked Yang. After an incident years ago that left her broken and defeated, she'd given up hope of ever getting out. Blake wants to show her son that there is more to life than running from lurking shadows. When she moves to Patch she starts to consider something she hasn’t in years-- sticking around. Yang really hopes she does.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 31
Kudos: 113





	1. Chapter 1

It was mid July and Yang was on top of the world. Or at least, she felt that way, despite the waves of heat threatening to melt the soles of her boots onto the concrete. She was so close to leaving everything behind. The stretch of the open road seemed boundless as it expanded into the horizon, where the lines blurred from the sweltering temperature. The last stop from the end of the prologue to her grand adventure. To Freedom. 

This was not at all one of Yang’s typical hang out spots. The small building was covered in dust, iron bars shackling the windows to look more like a prison than a store. She wiped her brow as she set down the kickstand of her bright yellow motorcycle at the deserted gas station. A chime clinked dully as Yang pushed the heavy door open, its weight seeming to resist her entry rather than invite it. 

The gruff and burly proprietor glared at her from behind the counter. Leering green eyes followed Yang while she ambled around the store, picking up a bottle of water and some spicy barbeque chips. His hulking form was nearly twice the size of her yet she matched his stare, unintimidated as she approached the register. Howling wolves, phrases that may as well have been rejected titles for B rate action movies, and ornate crosses adorned his skin in ink, none of which drew her attention as much as the stylized wing peeking out from just under his vest collar. 

She smirked and pointedly raised a handful of lien on her side of the counter, challenging his gaze behind her aviators. He reached a bulky arm across and she grabbed his wrist, pinning it to the wooden countertop. 

“You’re with the Branwen Family?” Yang demanded as she yanked his body forward, tilting his balance and sending him crashing into the counter with a surprised grunt-- no doubt having underestimated the amount of strength she possessed. 

He struggled to regain control, ripping a pistol from under the counter with a growl, “I know who you are.” 

“Then you know what I want.” Yang slid over the countertop and tackled him back into the concrete wall. A loud bang reverberated in her eardrums as she elbowed him in the face, cracking his head into the wall and breaking his nose. Dazed and bruised, the gun was ripped from his hand before Yang punched him again for good measure. She took a moment to breathe, finding that the bullet had planted itself in the ceiling rather than her body. 

She looked down at the man and shook her head with a disapproving smirk, “Y’know, your customer service really sucks. I’m gonna have to leave a poor Yelp review about this.” She shoved the gun’s barrel against his chin, pressing it into the stubbled skin as he blinked blearily at her. 

“Where are they?” 

“Listen, Blondie-” 

She cocked the gun, “You can call me _Sir_.” 

He shut his eyes with a shaky exhale, “The Branwens already picked up their shipment and moved on to the next county... _Sir_.” 

Yang sat back, holding the gun loosely by her side while shrugging, “Have they? My other _sources_ were pretty consistent about the Family’s schedule. All roads led to here.” 

He shook his head, “I don’t know what you’re planning to find, but it ain’t peace or glory. They’ll kill you. I’m already as good as dead.” 

She stood up, tucking the pistol between her leather belt and jeans. “No, they won’t.” 

* * *

Yang glanced up from her magazine at the familiar sound of a bell chiming. A young Faunus woman with long ebony hair and a worn violet hoodie walked in, letting all the oxygen get sucked right out the grated door behind her. She was strikingly beautiful but withdrawn, sinking into her jacket as she wandered the aisles. She was unlikely to be one of the Family’s people but there was a twitchiness to her-- the way she scoped out the angles of the store as she browsed, the slight apprehension that crossed her face when she glanced at the fresh bullet hole in the ceiling-- that suggested she wasn’t a typical civilian. Yang leaned forward, unconsciously succumbing to the pull of the mysterious woman and following along each of her careful steps. What was her story? What sort of sordid tragedy led a soul like hers to a Gods forsaken place like this? 

The beat up counter creaked slightly under Yang’s weight before she could catch herself. Feline ears flicked towards her and Yang quickly dropped her gaze back to the automotive parts in the magazine. She nearly kicked herself as she remembered that she was still wearing her shades-- there’s no way the other woman noticed her staring. Right? There was a tap at the counter less than a minute later. Yang snapped her head up in surprise at how close the Faunus woman was. How did she move so quietly from the otherside of the store? Was Yang getting rusty already? 

Yang put on an easy smile and pitched her voice slightly, “Did ya find everythin’ alright?” 

“Yes,” The other woman replied softly. 

The corner of Yang’s mouth twitched, noticing the darkened bruises maring the her brown skin. They looked fresh. She focused on ringing up the items-- a few bags of beef jerky, a bottle of water, and a first aid kit. 

She paused, her finger hesitating over the keys of the register, “Ya sure?” 

Black ears tilted back, amber eyes narrowing at her. Suddenly Yang wonders if there would be a replay of the scene that took place on this very same counter not three hours ago. 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” 

Yang nodded, putting the items in a bag as the other woman slid her payment over the scuffed up countertop. The dark haired woman left the store, her hands tucked firmly in her jacket pockets as the plastic bag hung from her elbow. If the circumstances were different, Yang might have followed her out. Might have asked her about those bruises and who’d dare lay an unkind finger on her. Maybe she would have even swept her off her feet in the rain like some cheesy whirlwind romance and drove her somewhere far, far away from here. 

But Yang didn’t have the time for such idle fantasies. She doubted the other woman did either. 

Yang began to go through her mental checklist again, running a hand through her golden hair and brushing off her flannel shirt. The Family should be here within three hours. She had a folder full of documents in her bike’s compartment box and a pistol tucked in her belt. While she was hoping for a _civil_ conversation with Raven, she had some doubts that the Branwen leader would answer her questions so easily. 

The bell rang again, accompanying the abrupt slam of the door. The woman was back, her hands moving quickly to click the lock on the door. Her bag was missing, dropped somewhere on the other side. 

“Didya miss me already, darlin’?” Yang chuckled. Sharp amber eyes darted to her and the Faunus surged forward, pointing a slender knife at her. 

“Don’t!” She shouted, faltering ever so slightly as Yang raised her hands. She lowered her voice to a menacing hiss, “Don’t call me that.” 

Yang swallowed, mentally kicking herself for finding what otherwise would be a threatening situation rather attractive. 

“Apologies, Miss. What would ya have me call you?” 

The other woman sighed, lowering her knife. “Blake.” 

Blake stepped away from the door, her heeled boots clicking on the linoleum. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to drag you into this but it’s not safe outside. They’re here.” 

“ _They’re_ here?” Yang asked, an edge to her voice. 

“They’ve found me.” 

Yang glanced at the barred windows, squinting through the dusty glass at three shadows gliding across the gas station. One of them had the audacity to run their grimy fingers over her motorcycle, laughing back at one of the other figures. 

“Well, I can’t say I take too kindly to that.” 

Yang looked back at Blake and shot her a smirk, “I’ll help ya out, Blake. Don’t cha worry.” 

“You’re awfully confident.” Blake glowered at her, her eyes a cocktail of suspicion and frustration mixed with a splash of panic, “you haven’t flinched once.” 

“It’s one of my many charms. Now, if you’d like to handle this peaceful like, you can hide over in that there freezer storage and I can try to talk to em.” 

“They already saw me. No amount of your southern charisma will change that. They’ll just…” Blake frowned, “they’ll kill you.” 

“Mmm, nah.” Yang shrugged as they pounded on the door. The reinforced door was blown off its hinges as a slim man with a 90s boy band goatee and bat wings stepped inside. 

Glass crunched under his steel toed boots as he shook his head in disapproval, “It is so very unkind of you to drag us all across Mistral just so you could do some sightseeing, Sister Blake.” 

A barrel chested and stocky man with fearsome tusks and a pale woman adorned in webbed tattoos followed behind him. They were in black suits accented with white armbands bearing a familiar red-clawed sigil. They weren’t from the Family-- they were White Fang. Yang’s confidence wavered, how convenient that the one gang Yang _couldn’t_ touch happened to be on her literal doorstep. No one crossed the Fang. 

“Sister? I didn’t take ya for a nun,” Yang muttered, reaching for the pistol tucked in her belt. 

“I’m _not_ ,” Blake scowled at her before returning her attention to the Fang members, “I won’t let you take me back there, Yuma!” 

A low growl rumbled from his throat as he took another step towards Blake. 

Yang drew the pistol, pointing it at him, “Pretty sure the lady said she ain’t going.” 

He finally took his eyes off Blake to meet Yangs with a scoff, “Celica? I recall you had an arrangement with our Brother. If you choose to interfere, he won’t be pleased.” 

“You’re working with them?” Blake gasped, her grip tightening on her knife as she backed herself further into the corner, her movement jostling the magazine rack. Her eyes darted between Yang and the Fang goons. 

“No!” Yang protested, cocking the pistol, “I have no interest in future dealings with the Fang, especially if they be condoning kidnapping.” 

“You’ll regret this.” He grinned widely, his teeth glinting dangerously. 

“I ain’t afraid of nothing.” Yang pulled the trigger, the bullet tearing through the tall man’s-- _Yuma’s--_ wing and piercing the tusked Faunus’ shoulder, “I’m a Branwen!” 

Blake launched herself forward, knocking over the aisles full of assorted snacks. Yuma roared as he was buried under the shelves. Blake climbed on to them, her weight pinning him further under the metal as she expertly threw her knife at the other woman, the blade finding its mark in her chest. She charged at Blake with a wild shriek. She tore the knife out of her body and slashed at Blake who jumped from the shelves and fled down the aisle. 

Yang attempted to aim at the Fang woman, her dark clothing blending with Blake’s form in a violent flurry of jabs. They weaved in and out of view before disappearing down the hall to the lone bathroom before Yang could make a shot. The remaining Fang threw himself in front of Yang, a machete raised and poised. 

“Aw, fuck,” Yang hissed. She dodged behind the counter as the machete came down and splintered the wooden surface. Yang tucked the pistol away so she could use both of her hands and think. 

_Think._

Yuma threw the racks off of him, the metal shrieking across the linoleum. Yang rolled to the side and into the open, sweeping a leg under Machete Dude. He stumbled, falling down on one knee as Yang threw herself back onto her feet. She was immediately greeted by a sharp edge as Yuma thrusted a blade at her, a trench knife gripped in his hand. Yang slid to the right and grabbed him by the elbow, guiding his momentum into Machete Dude. The Fang ringleader planted his free hand on his friend’s shoulder and flipped over him. For someone with such unwieldy limbs, he was certainly agile. 

Yang lept to avoid a powerful swing from Machete Dude as he spun towards her on the floor. Her boot met his face with enough force that there was an audible crack. She wasn’t sure if it was from his blade clattering to the ground or one of his bones breaking. 

She drew the gun, pointing it at Yuma. He shook his head at her, tuting with a condescending air. She glared back. Yuma rolled his neck and readied his stance. They sized each other up, waiting for the other to make their move. 

She fired. 

He narrowly dodged the shot, diving to the left of her. Yang swerved back to evade his next strike, managing to escape his knife but not the span of his wings-- the clawed ends of it ripping across her cheek. Well, shit. This could get downright nasty. Yang had to adjust her strategy. She wasn’t planning on meeting the Branwens while marinating in her own blood. 

They danced around each other, each strike evaded, diverted, or blocked by a steady hand, the heavy impacts echoing throughout the torn up store. Then Yang slipped, her boot losing traction on the now slippery floor-- blood was gushing from Machete Dude, the thick sanguine pooling around the bags of chips and tacky key chains on the floor. Yang grimaced and cursed under her breath. The poor Fang had gotten hit by her bullet while she had been focused on Yuma. 

He landed a leaden punch to Yang’s gut, knocking what was left of her breath out of her. The pistol fell out of her grasp. Yuma growled, wrapping his gloved hand around her throat like a vice and dragging her back up to her feet. He pinned her against the hot food stand, his eyes predatory and filled with sadistic malice. Yuma stabbed his knife into the grill and snatched her wrist, twisting it painfully as she struggled to break free of him. A searing pain flooded her right arm as Yuma pressed her wrist into the hot metal. Yang gritted her teeth, unable to scream as he squeezed her neck tighter. Red washed over her vision. 

Suddenly an arm wrapped around Yuma’s neck, the violet sleeve in tathers. Yang gasped for breath as Yuma was pulled off of her. 

_Blake._

She was back and Yuma was trying to tackle her. She was fast, quickly out maneuvering him every time he lunged at her. Recollected, Yang pried the trench knife from the grill, finding that her fingers slid into the knuckle rings quite smoothly. The blade carried a faint red glow to it, almost matching the burning scarlet of her eyes. Blake saw her approach and sent her a slight nod before charging at Yuma. He took the bait, too fixated on Blake to notice Yang until it was too late. She threw all her force into a punch, the metal knuckles smashing into his spine. As he tipped forward, Blake drove her knee into his face. He collapsed onto the floor between them. 

They stared down at him with baited breath. Yuma started to push himself back up and Blake kicked him in the head, rendering him unconscious. Then there was silence. 

A relieved smile bloomed on Yang’s face as she looked up at Blake. She almost wanted to laugh, the giddiness of winning making her feel light. Alive. However, Yang found Blake’s ferocity turned on her instead. She bared her teeth and grabbed Yang by the collar of her flannel and shoved her into the wall. 

“Celica, was it? I don’t know what fucking side you think you’re on-- The Fang wouldn’t work with a Human unless you were some sort of mercenary.” 

“Was, yeah,” Yang breathed, “All I had left with them was a loan, honest.” 

Golden eyes pierced through the dark lens of Yang’s aviators. She was still high on the adrenaline, her fingers twitching over Blake’s hips as she pressed Yang harder into the wall. Blake’s harsh breaths washed over Yang’s parted lips. If things were different, Yang might have closed the few inches that separated them. 

“There’s _a body_ in the bathroom.” Blake snarled. 

“Oh.” Yang blinked, remembering the store owner she had tied up and interrogated, “Yeah, I suppose there is.” 

Blake let go of her with a growl, “A damn _Branwen_ …” 

“Look, it’s real complicated to explain but I set this trap lookin’ to confront the Family ‘bout some personal matters. Given all this went down like hell in a handbasket, I’m thinkin’ we both oughta skip town.” 

Blake grunted in reply, striding back over to Yuma. Her heart was still racing and Yang honestly wasn’t sure if it was from the fight or the fire in Blake’s eyes. With a shaky sigh, Yang pushed off of the wall and picked up the pistol to tuck back into her belt. She was starting to feel her injuries. She kicked some of the fallen merchandise out of the way to grab a box of painkillers. 

Yang took in the devastation around them, like standing in the eye of the storm-- chaos spiralling outward leaving debris, blood, and bodies in its wake. At the center, there was a hurricane in the shape of a haunted woman. In the hallway to the bathroom, the door was kicked in and the Fang woman was slumped unconscious amongst the wooden shards of its remains. Blake was rifling through Yuma’s pockets, checking his keys for something specific before jamming it into her own pocket. 

Blake frowned at the man lying in a pool of blood, “You killed him.” 

Yang sighed, “I didn’t intend to.” 

The weight of it sunk into her bones and stabbed needles into her heart. It wasn’t the first time she had taken a life but Gods did she hope it was her last. Death came with the territory, unfortunately. She was really hoping to leave that life behind her as soon as she settled things with Raven. 

Blake shook her head sadly. She turned away and walked out into the night. There was no breeze and the air was still thick with humidity. The whole place felt like grime on her skin, dirty and clogging up her lungs. Blake lit a cigarette and sat wearily on the curb, her bag from earlier spilled out haphazardly beside her. Smoke trailed from her bruised lips, caught between the glaring lights of the ‘open’ sign and the caress of moonlight washing over her. Even covered in scratches, her violet hoodie torn and stained with blood, she looked indomitable. A portrait of a survivor, a victor against whatever cruel odds the harsh world threw at her. 

Yang carefully sat down beside her, “You, ah, took a few knicks. Guessin’ they weren’t told to handle ya with much care.” 

Blake shrugged, “I’ve had worse.” 

“Could I help patch you up?” 

She fixed Yang with that scrutinizing look again, disassembling and critiquing every angle Yang had as if it would discern her true intentions. Yang wanted nothing more than to bare herself to this stranger-- to let her pick her apart and see if there were pieces there still worth redeeming. She pulled off her aviators, soft lilac meeting molten amber. Blake’s eyes widened at the gesture but they didn’t break eye contact. An eternity could have passed them by in that moment, lost in the sincerity of each other's gaze. 

Blake exhaled, letting the tension completely drain from her shoulders. She put out the cigarette, stomping it under her boot, “Yeah, okay.” 

A faint smile grew on Yang’s lips as she took the medkit from the pile and opened it. She gingerly cleaned Blake’s wounds, wiping away the blood and applying alcohol to disinfect. The woman hardly flinched, her eyes still trained on Yang’s. Yang bandaged the gash on Blake’s arm with gentle reverence, her callused fingers brushing over her skin. Her eyes flicked back up to meet Blake’s when she heard Faunus’ breath hitch, checking to make sure she didn’t hurt her. 

Yang nodded in satisfaction before reaching to close the kit but was stopped by Blake’s hand encompassing hers. The warmth in her touch made Yang feel like she’s just found a shelter and fire in an everlasting winter. 

“You’re hurt too,” Blake spoke softly, “let me.” 

“Oh,” Yang breathed, “You don’t have to--” 

Blake squeezed her hand. Her face was open and unguarded now, a gentleness shining through the depths of her eyes. There was vulnerability there, one she laid bare in accepting Yang’s help and a tenderness she wished to reciprocate. As equals. 

“I want to.” 

Yang understood-- and maybe, maybe it would be nice to let someone else take care of her just this once. She rolled up the sleeve of her injured arm and offered it to Blake. The heat of Blake’s fingertips could serve as an adequate salve on their own, distracting Yang from the pulsing pain of her burn. Blake opened her water bottle and took a sip before pouring most of it over the tender skin. She dried it carefully, covered it with an ointment, and gently wrapped her wrist with the remaining gauze from the kit. Blake moved to the cut on her cheek next, cleaning it and putting a bandaid on it. 

“Thanks,” Yang’s voice wavered barely above a whisper. 

Blake’s hand lingered, her thumb caressing Yang’s cheek for a moment longer. It felt bittersweet when she pulled her hand away, like Blake had somehow already made a home nestled in Yang’s orbit only for them to remember this is the part where they must lock the doors, throw away the key. Yang had been doing a lot of leaving lately, and yet she found herself easily grounded in the gravity of this woman. It was irrational. Dangerous. 

More reasons she should get going. 

Yang picked herself up from the curb and slowly walked to her motorcycle. Weighed down with reluctance, she found herself trying to prolong whatever time they had left as much as possible. She brushed the day’s accumulated dust off of it along with the finger written message of _‘pisscycle’_ that one of the Fang left on it. Yang straddled her sports bike and looked back at Blake. She was hugging her knees and glaring out at the gas pumps, her ears pressed back in frustration and sadness. 

“Blake?” Her ears perked up as she turned to meet Yang’s gaze. 

“If you’re still set on running, you can always come with me,” Yang offered, dropping her disguise and accent. She had nothing left to hide from her. 

Blake stared at her for a long moment, turning the idea over in her head. Yang wondered if Blake was imagining the same sort of wistful dreams of a new life that she was. One they could share. Blake finally shook her head. 

“I think I’ll take my chances,” she uttered, bitterness coloring her tone. She paused, biting her lip before adding softly, “But thanks, Celica… for everything.” 

“It’s Yang, actually. My real name,” Yang admitted. She cleared her throat awkwardly, “I, uh. It’s no problem, Blake. I’m just glad you’re alright. Stay safe, okay?” 

She revved up her motorcycle, the roar of the engine filling the space between them and dislodging Yang from her hesitation. Blake opened her mouth, silently testing the name on her lips. A pity Yang would never get to hear it roll off her tongue. 

“Well!” Yang called over the rumble as she fastened her helmet on, “I’d love to get to know you better but I’m not planning to stick around.” 

“You and me both…” Blake grumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she gave Yang a final nod. She stood up with her bag, pulling Yuma’s keys from her pocket and staring at them. Yang watched her as she pulled out of the parking lot, etching one final memory of the woman before reluctantly tearing her eyes away. Onto the cracked highway, she drove out into the dark. 

Yang’s inability to turn away from a beautiful woman was really gonna bite her in the butt one of these days but she wouldn’t say she regretted it. She was going to have to go for plan B to confront the Family. She’d find their warehouse-- stowaway in a crate if she had to. They were not going to be happy when they found the mess, but with any luck they’ll assume the Fang attacked the store and deal with Yuma themselves. 

* * *

Yang blinked tiredly at the clock. The red digits on the screen stared tauntingly back at her. Yang willed time to stop, to consider even going back by a few hours-- Still, the minute number ticked over. Yang groaned and blindly reached for her scroll, it’s light illuminating her darkened room. It was nearly one o'clock in the afternoon and she had a dozen unread messages from her friends. She couldn’t stifle the familiar pang of guilt that ran through her. 

Yang put the scroll on her end table and hauled herself up, balancing carefully on her left arm as she sat upright. She massaged the stump of what remained of her right arm, gritting her teeth at flashes of her nightmare-- or memory. It was all a blurred cocktail of pain and anger roiling in her gut. Always the same flash of reds and oranges, shattered glass, and the screech of metal grinding in her ears, echoing and lingering long after she woke. 

It had been nearly six years since she lost her arm and it still hadn’t gotten any easier. That actually wasn’t a fair assessment. She lost much more than her arm that night. Yang Xiao Long lost her future. The freedom that she had been striving, fighting, and saving up for-- an escape from her past before all the debts could catch up to her, all gone in one evening. She had been a fool to think any of it could have gone smoothly. 

Most of her old friends had moved on with their lives. Ren and Nora had moved to the mainland city, Vale, after graduation. Pyrrha and Jaune got married, had a child, and built an idyllic house in the suburbs, white picket fence and all. Yang still saw Pyrrha at least twice a month after she helped out with Yang’s physical therapy, maybe one of the only good things Yang can think of as a result of her injury. Ruby was thousands of miles away, fresh from grad school and wrapped up in her own life. She had an entrepreneurial venture planned with her partners. Yang was immensely proud of her little sister’s accomplishments, but it was bittersweet, seeing her go on and spread her wings while Yang was left behind. 

Meanwhile, Yang had just become complacent. It wasn’t a terrible life, in all honesty. She had a little apartment and a stable job as a mechanic at her father’s old shop that kept her afloat. She had little need for much else… and it wasn’t like she could ask for more in her permanent state. Same old home, same old town. She was going to rot away here. 

Yang dragged herself into the kitchen, ignoring the clutter on her counter. She pulled a half empty packet of salami from the fridge, nonchalantly nudging the door shut with the heel of her foot. She grabbed a notepad from her table and frowned at the unchecked items from yesterday’s list. With a sigh, she flipped the page and began to messily scrawl a new list for the day to help organize her brain. It was still a struggle to get her left hand to cooperate to form something legible. Suddenly, her scroll began to vibrate on the table. Pyrrha’s name flashed on the screen as she scrambled to answer the call and put it on speakerphone. 

“Hey P!” 

“Hello~” Pyrrha replied happily. Her nurturing enthusiasm always softened the edges of Yang’s stress. She’s not sure how one person could contain such enduring positivity but it was yet another reminder of how grateful she is that Pyrrha’s still around. “I’m hosting a cookout tomorrow and we would love it if you could join us!” 

“Aw, yeah!” Yang smiled, “Who’s going?” 

“It’s just us and our new friends.” 

Yang faltered, feeling slightly disappointed their old friends wouldn’t be there. New friends were nice, but they always got stuck on her arm-- or rather the lack of one and it grated on her nerves to have to suffer the pitying looks. She wished people would just see her for herself instead. 

“What should I bring?” Yang asked, already beginning to scribble notes for the cookout onto the page. There was a moment of rustling from the other end before Pyrrha spoke. 

“Ooh, do you think you could make your famous cookies? It’s been so long and I miss them. I’m sure Zinc would love them.” 

Yang chuckled, “Sure thing.” 

“Wonderful, I’ll text you the details. Can’t wait!” 

“Yeah, me too.” 

The call ended, leaving Yang tapping her chin with the top of her pen. She needed to head over to the grocery and restock her kitchen-- but first she had to take a shower and put on her prosthetic. 

* * *

The cookies were Ruby’s favorite. A recipe passed down through Summer’s kind and encouraging words to an eager, young Yang and one Yang struggled to teach Ruby years later without breaking into tears. She had never managed to get hers tasting as sweet as Summer’s-- always too stiff or bitter or it’d crumbled at the touch and yet everyone claimed to love it. They didn’t know what they were missing, settling for a fraud. Still, she tried her best to do it justice. 

Yang set one aside and wrapped it with care, placing it on a small plate on an end table in the corner. 

* * *

She parked her gold pickup in Pyrrha’s driveway, a sure contrast against the Pyrrha’s sleek auburn hatchback and Jaune’s tawny sedan. There was a dark violet minivan Yang didn’t recognize with some of its paint scratched off. She was mildly concerned about how there seemed to be tape holding the back bumper onto the car. Yang shook her head out of work mode and got out of her truck, reaching for the tupperware of fresh cookies from the backseat. She took a few deep breaths to center herself and then walked through the backyard gate where the beats of Pyrrha’s retro 70s playlist grew louder. 

Pyrrha beamed at her from the stainless grill, “Yang!” 

“Heyo!” Yang called, giving her a wave. 

Their backyard was big and immaculate, from the evenly trimmed grass to the beautifully orchestrated garden. Pyrrha’s kid was gleefully popping in and out of the large playset, their strawberry blonde hair trailing after them. Zinc was a good kid, five years old and not a care in the world-- as it should be. She babysat for the Arcs on a handful of occasions and the child was always particularly interested in taking things apart and putting them back together. Another little engineer in the making. 

Jaune was setting the table, fighting against the wind, actually, as it attempted to throw the sheet off the table. She gave an amused laugh and set her box down on the table, “Need some help there, champ?” 

Jaune nodded frantically, “Yes, please! Could you hold this part down while I secure it, it’d greatly appreciated.” 

She spread her palms out across the tablecloth, evening out the creases, “I gotcha.” 

“Do you want your burger medium rare?” Pyrrha asked, flipping the paddies with practiced ease. 

“You know it,” Yang smiled. “What else you got cooking?” 

Pyrrha gestured at the grill with her spatula. “Some hot dogs, veggie burgers, and ribs.” 

Jaune patted Yang’s shoulder in thanks, “We got a salad and rice that will be out in a second too!” 

“Sweet! I love rice.” Yang turned at the sound of the sliding door opening and froze. 

Amber eyes stared back. 

“Ah, here she is! Meet our new neighbor-” 

“Blake.” Yang uttered, completely dumbstruck and interrupting Pyrrha’s introduction. 

As if she hasn’t seen the ebony haired woman flitting across her dreams for the past six years. Her courageous spirit, the sharpness in her eyes, and the tenderness of her touch. How could Yang ever forget? Recognition flickered on Blake’s features, though it seemed she was still deciding whether or not that was a good thing. 

“Yang,” Blake replied, and Yang was suddenly grateful she was next to a bench because she felt like the world just tipped out from under her. 

Her name sounded so good on Blake’s lips, familiar, like it’s always belonged there. It rattled Yang’s heart and made her palms sweat and it suddenly occurred to Yang it's been years since she’s felt like this. Blake’s face was free of the cuts and bruises of that night, though there still was a tiredness weighing down the bags of her eyes. Her dark wavy hair was shorter now, the curls cut just past her chin. She traded out the old ripped up hoodie for a loose white blouse, a scarf hanging open over her shoulders decorated in a purple gingham pattern. Different and yet, entirely and irrevocably… _Blake._

Pyrrha was ignorant of Yang’s internal chaos, purely delighted as she helped Blake with carrying the salad and steaming white rice to the table. “You two know each other?” 

“Met at a gas station once,” Blake said simply as if it had been in casual passing and not a battle for their lives that left at least one man dead. 

“Must have left quite an impression.” Pyrrha chuckled, giving Yang a knowing look. 

“Don’t I always?” Yang returned with a lopsided grin, finding it hard to look away from Blake. She carried herself with unashamed self assuredness and confidence. It was clear that wherever Blake had been in the last six years had treated her much better than her time with the Fang. Yang felt oddly proud of her. It was a good thing Blake had turned Yang down that night. 

“One time, Yang broke the basketball hoop in the gymnasium of our high school trying to impress a girl. Shattered the backboard and everything. The ball knocked out the gym teacher.” Jaune helpfully added. 

Blake raised a brow as she took a seat at the table, “Sounds like her.” 

“Oh, Gods.” Yang groaned, “If this is what I have to look forward to, I can just take my cookies and go.” 

“Stay,” Blake requested. It was enough to set concrete in Yang’s legs. “I want to hear more about your _heroic endeavors_ ,” she smirked, a sly look sparkling in her golden eyes like they were sharing a secret just between the two of them. Pyrrha and Jaune did not know the extent of Yang’s criminal past-- the sort of things she had to do to get by, to support Ruby. Yang wondered if they knew about Blake’s. 

“Ah, how about when Yang tried to do a backflip off her bicycle--” Pyrrha began to say as she went back to the grill. Jaune hugged her as he passed by before he walked into the house. 

Yang rolled her eyes and took the seat opposite of Blake, “You say _‘tried’_ like I didn’t pull it off.” 

“Does it count as a success if you fell right after and got a concussion?” 

Blake giggled into her hand, “Exactly _how_ accident prone are you?” 

“I’m not!” Yang protested, nearly stumbling over her words at how deliciously sweet Blake’s laughter sounded. She’d do anything to hear more of it. Brothers, she was such a goner. Yang gestured forward with her left arm and pointed at a check-shaped scar just under her elbow. 

“Besides, they aren’t telling you the _cool_ stories! I got this scar right here junior year of Uni-- Five dudes went at me in a bar fight because I wounded their poor egos. Well, I wounded a lot more than that by the time the night was finished.” 

Blake leaned her chin on her palm, golden eyes glittering with amusement. She made no effort to disguise her interest in Yang’s antics. It gave Yang goosebumps, caught in the headlights of Blake’s attention. A familiar scar on her forearm peeked out from the sleeve of her airy blouse. 

“Get into trouble often?” It was a loaded question coming from Blake, especially with the way she lowered her voice. 

Yang shrugged, dropping her gaze to the repeated Pumpkin Pete’s mascot printed across the table cover. She faintly traced the outline of the bunny’s shape before she found her voice. 

“Not anymore. Pyrrha threatened me that if I got another bodily injury she would break my legs herself,” Yang said with a weak smile. 

Blake looked at the tan woman dancing to ABBA by the grill in disbelief. She leaned closer to Yang over the table, her voice barely above a whisper, “I’ve only known Pyrrha for three hours and a half but I highly doubt she would even hurt a fly.” 

“Ha, true-- I told her that and she just showed me Nora’s number on speed dial.” 

“Nora?” 

Yang winked, “Stick around long enough and you’ll meet her. She’s one of our old buds from high school. We’re planning a reunion party in about a month.” 

Blake leaned back, breaking the private space between them yet her voice remained low and a little strained, “We’ll see about that.” 

Yang hoped she did stick around. She didn’t often find herself regretting much in her life, but Gods did she wish she hadn't driven away that night. 

Pyrrha called for Zinc to come to the table as she finished cooking the food. The excitable kid slid out of the playset in a blur that could almost rival Ruby’s speedy enthusiasm. Yang cracked a smile as Pyrrha scooped Zinc up and straightened out the wrinkles in their silvery blue jersey, brushing off stray bits of grass from the child’s light hair. 

She turned back to Blake and was surprised to see a child scrambling into the spot beside her while calling, “Mai!” 

Blake helped the kid get settled into his seat. His small frame was thinner than Zinc’s, the dark green fabric of his dinosaur shirt hanging loosely from his shoulders. Blake affectionately ran her fingers through ruley dark burgundy locks as he bumped his forehead into her arm. His hair fell around his round face in loose curls that were only half as long but just as voluminous as Blake’s. 

“Yang, this is my son, Gren.” Blake smiled as she turned to the boy, “Say hello to Yang, koun. She’s… an old friend, like Oum Ilia.” 

Yang offered her hand with her friendliest grin, “Heya Gren.” 

Gren had the same piercing amber eyes as Blake, guarded and filled with distrust. Hesitantly, he touched Yang’s hand but did not grasp it. “Hi.” 

Blake patted Gren’s back, “He’s shy around new people.” 

Yang laughed softly, “I don’t blame ya, people can be scary.” 

Pyrrha returned, putting Zinc down in a booster chair next to Gren. It was at that moment that Yang realized Gren sat a little bit differently from them, seeming to lean back on a tail. Maybe that was his Faunus trait, a tail strong enough to support his body weight. Zinc happily reached toward Yang and she squeezed their hand gently, “Hey kiddo.” 

“I see you’ve met Zinc’s new friend.” Pyrrha chuckled. 

Yang nodded, “How old is he?” 

“He’ll be six in a few months.” Blake replied, flicking her gaze to meet Yang’s for a moment before returning her attention to her son who had busied himself by playing with Blake’s scarf. 

Before Yang could think about the implications, the sliding door opened. Jaune appeared with a roll of napkins under his arm followed by a woman with long red hair and a blueberry pie in her hands. She paused, raising her brows as she looked Yang up and down before Blake yanked her down into the seat beside her. 

“Yang, this is Ilia!” Blake announced with a pronounced grin, nudging Ilia’s ribs pointedly, “She introduced me to Pyrrha.” 

Amused, Yang shook the other woman’s hand “Nice to meet ya! How do you know Pyrrha?” 

“How most people know Pyrrha,” Ilia winked, “I was in one of her yoga classes.” 

Yang let out a peal of laughter, dropping her palm on the table with a soft _thud_. “Oh, yeah? I tried going to one once. It wasn’t my thing.” 

Ilia’s smirk grew, “Yeah, you look more like a strength girl than a _flexibility_ girl.” 

Blake jabbed Ilia with her elbow again, causing the long haired woman to sputter. Ilia raised her brows challengingly at Blake, her skin slowly morphing into a red and spilling over her large freckles. Blake glared back at her and mouthed a word at her. Ilia turned a shade of magenta and then back to normal as her expression became smug. 

Yang wore a crooked grin as they both turned back at her, “You two good friends?” 

Ilia nodded despite Blake giving her the side eye. “We’ve been friends for a decade. We hardly get to hang out these days but when she told me she was moving to Patch I wanted to help her get settled in, meet some friends. I live a few hours away-- on the mainland.” 

“Aw, that's sweet.” 

“Yeah, it is.” Blake agreed, giving Ilia a soft and genuine smile. 

* * *

A week later and Yang was still thinking about Blake even as she drove home from work. Blake’s happiness was infectious. The smirks she had kept aiming at Yang. The easy laughter she shared with Ilia and Pyrrha. The way her eyes lit up as she shared one of Yang’s cookies with Gren-- whose reluctance turned to overabundant eagerness in grabbing more cookies for himself. One of the cookies had flown into Zinc’s lap as Yang laughed, the kids’ antics making her nostalgic about her youth with Ruby. 

“Careful there, you’ve got yourself a cookie _Grenlin_ in the making.” 

“Did you just--?” Blake asked, more shocked than offended. She shook her head with an amused giggle as she organized Gren’s cookies in a stack, “We’re probably safe unless he gets his hands on your recipe.” 

Yang smiled warmly at the memory, briefly taken by the idea of baking cookies with them. She shook her head. There she went, getting ahead of herself again. She flipped her turn signal and checked both sides of the road before she pulled out of the fast food parking lot. Absently, she ate some greasy fries, savoring the heat and texture of the lightly salted snack. Sometimes self care was junk food. 

The sun slipped past the horizon, blanketing the roads in the dark of night and the lights of the shops along the road. Yang turned down a back road where there was less development, the sides still filled with lush fields of tall grass and trees. There used to be more fields like this when she was a child. She’d carry Ruby in her arms as they laughed and screeched, running through the untamed grasslands like they were adventurers, wild and free. Summer used to get so mad at them for tracking mud back in the house. 

The faint smile on Yang’s lips fell when her headlights came across a familiar scratched up minivan on the side of the road, completely dark. A panic crawled its way up Yang’s spine, sending a twinge of phantom pain to her right arm. Her hands trembled. She took in a deep even breath as she pulled her truck over behind the van. She grabbed her flashlight out of the side pocket of the truck door and hopped out. 

Yang quickly jogged over to the minivan, “Blake? Are you okay?” 

“Yang?” The voice came from just behind her. Yang spun around, bringing up her flashlight to see Blake squinting at her with a raised tire iron. 

“Oh, sh-- hey.” 

“Hi,” Blake replied. It almost sounded sarcastic, if there wasn’t a slight exhale of relief at the end of the word. She lowered the tire iron in a decidedly less threatening fashion. 

“Why the fudge are you sneaking around in the dark?” 

“Faunus don’t need lights to see, Yang.” 

Blake blended into the pitch black surroundings easily except for the way her eyes were reflecting the bits of light coming from Yang’s torch. Yang turned her light to the car doors and saw Gren pressed up against the window, glaring fiercely at her with his fingers clawing slowly at the glass. She waved at him with a gentle smile. The way his puffed up cheeks squished against the surface was more endearing than intimidating, but she’d give the kid credit for trying. 

Yang looked back to Blake in concern, “What happened? I recognized your minivan and I got worried.” 

“The A/C stopped working, the steering wheel nearly locked up and all of the warning lights lit up. Pretty sure I saw smoke. I was about to open the hood to look.” 

“Oh, grapes,” Yang mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck. 

An amused smirk crossed Blake’s face, “Grapes?” 

Yang ignored the comment as they walked through the uneven grass to the front of the car. 

“Could I take a look? I’m a mechanic these days.” 

Blake hummed as she lifted the hood, “Is that what happens to old mercs?” 

Yang propped it up with a chuckle, “Yeah, y’know Patch has a reputation for it’s fancy retirement homes and reformed criminals-- with a side of tourism, of course.” 

They leaned back, waving to dispel some of the hot air that was released from the compartment. 

“Do you need me to hold the light for you?” Blake teased as she leaned casually against the grill of the minivan. 

“You’re already outshining the stars so I think we’re good.” 

Blake scoffed but was unable to conceal her smile, “That’s terrible, Yang.” 

Yang scanned for a sticker displaying the routing layout, whistling lightly to herself as she identified the object of her suspicion, the serpentine belt-- which was snapped in half and seemingly tangled in the gears. 

“Okay, yeah, the belt is broken.” 

There was a flash as Yang’s flashlight moved over the crevice. Her brows furrowed and she reached in with her prosthetic for the dislodged object. Blake tugged Yang back, “Are you trying to get yourself burned?” 

“I got a metal arm! It’ll be fine if I’m quick enough.” 

Blake glared at her, “Don’t turn this into another story Pyrrha shares at her cookouts.” 

Yang rolled her eyes but reached up to shut the hood. “Gonna have to get this towed over to the shop and replace the belt.” 

As she turned, she was surprised by a hand pushing against her collar, nudging her back against the minivan. Blake’s eyes glowed in the darkness, narrowed and as ferocious as when they were in that gas station, “Can you take care of it?” 

“Yeah.” Yang uttered. She relaxed under her stern gaze and cracked a smug smile, “For you, I can do anything.” 

Blake let her hand fall from Yang’s shirt, her expression softening, “I have a very short list of people I can trust, Yang. Gren and I have to keep a low profile. Given what I know about you and what you know about me, let’s say I trust you.” 

“Oh… _You trust me?_ I’d hate to see what happens if you _mistrusted_ someone.” 

Blake followed Yang around the minivan. Gren was still at the window, his tiny hands curled into fists as they strode past him. 

“You already have, _Celica._ ” 

Yang groaned, “Ugh. Don’t remind me. It’s been ages since I used that alias.” 

She climbed onto the back of her pickup truck and unlocked a large tool crate. 

“Are you still with the Branwens? Patch is a far ways off from their usual territory.” 

A frown pulled at Yang’s lips. “I was never part of the Family. As for _being_ a Branwen? One birthed me and left me on a doorstep.” Her voice dripped with bitterness as she focused her residual frustration on gathering her towing equipment. She heard a soft ‘ _ah’_ from Blake and tried not to think about it. That was a closed door in Yang’s life, one she didn’t intend on crossing the threshold of ever again. 

Yang hopped back down and handed the metal bars and wires to Blake. She was about to move the truck when Blake spoke again, breaking the silence, “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault.” 

“For calling you a damn Branwen back then. And for all the shoving. I…” Her eyes shone with sincerity as she stepped closer, “I appreciate your help.” 

“Ah, it’s no problem.” A small smile grew on Yang’s face that quickly shifted into a smirk, “Besides, I love it when you’re feisty.” 

Blake chuckled lowly, the sound curling around Yang and settling in her chest. She stepped back, allowing Yang to shut the door. Yang maneuvered the truck around the minivan and parked a little over a foot from the front if it. Hopefully hooking it up wouldn’t be too much trouble, but she might just have to actually ask Blake to hold the light for her. As Yang stood by the hitch between the vehicles she found her eyes drawn back to Blake. 

Blake was pulling a backpack from the minivan, heaving it onto her shoulder before taking Gren into her arms. Gren hugged her tightly, burying his face into her neck as she brushed her fingers through his fairly curly hair while his long tail curled up slightly by her knees. Yang found herself lost again, time slowing down as Blake opened the door to Yang’s truck and set Gren inside. The overhead light spilled over them while Blake comforted her son. She secured Gren in his seat and wrapped him gently in a plush blanket. Yang wanted to capture it in a polaroid in her mind, paint it across the hallways of the doors she still wanted to open-- ones she hoped would never slam shut. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for a little racism

Yang’s truck was large and welcoming. The scent of pine filled the russet brown interior, leather seats worn in enough to show character and age yet still shining and well maintained. The space was kept clean and neatly organized. Hanging from the rearview mirror was the one touch of red in the truck, a silver necklace with an engraved blooming rose charm. 

Blake remembered how impeccable Yang’s motorcycle had been when she first entered that gas station six years ago. She had thought it was strange how much the yellow bike stuck out against the grated up building and cracked asphalt. Given what she knew about the bike’s owner now, she’d have to say it made sense. Despite the reckless way Yang always carried herself, it was clear she took maintaining her vehicles very seriously. 

Yang climbed in the driver’s seat a moment later, locking the doors and checking her seatbelt before shooting a reassuring smile at Blake and Gren. While she appreciated Yang’s concern, she had to admit something seemed _different_ about her compared to Blake’s first impression of her all those years ago. Not that the span of a little under an hour of interaction meant that Blake _knew_ her-- but Yang wasn’t quite as cocky as she had been all those years ago. Maybe it was just age. Still, Blake can’t help but wonder what could dampen a flame like hers. 

“French fry?” Yang offered, wiggling a soggy fry at her.

“No, thanks, we were just returning home from dinner.” 

“Ah,” Yang nodded, bringing the fry to her lips. She froze, feeling the weight of Gren leering at her from the backseat. Yang raised her brows at Blake in a silent question. 

She exhaled a soft huff in amusement and turned to face Gren,“If you want something you need to ask nicely, koun.”

He pouted, his cheeks puffing out adorably, “Can I has a fry, please?” 

“Sure thing, bud.” Yang grinned at him, receiving an almost smile from the boy in kind.

Shyly, he uttered a soft, “Thenks.”

Blake took the carton of fries and grabbed a small portion, wrapping it up in a napkin before passing it back to Gren, “Careful, remember to eat neatly.”

Gren nodded sternly, as if he was undertaking a task of grave importance as he set about munching each fry slowly and carefully, savoring each second. Blake bit back her laugh and turned back to Yang who had been watching with a soft smile. 

“So, where to?” 

“1309 Villeneuve Rd. The Groves apartment complex.”

“Ahh, I think know where that is,” Yang murmured as she pulled them off of the shoulder of the road. It was a little bumpy but it evened out as they started to accelerate over the asphalt. “When Pyrrha called you a neighbor I kind of assumed she meant, like, next door.” 

“It’s close enough.” 

As the truck coasted along, they both fell silent, surrendering to the sounds of the tires on the road and the light popping of carbonated soda in the cup holder. Gren had stopped rustling his napkin, done with the fries. Yang shifted in her seat and slurped from her soda, loudly enough that even she noticed and sent Blake an abashed look. Blake rolled her eyes and gazed out of the window, every few minutes checking if her van was still attached to the back of Yang’s truck. 

“So. Is this what you drive when you’re not feeling the motorcycle vibes?” Blake teased, searching out a way to fill the silence as her fingers tapped lightly over the leather upholstery. Something dark washed over Yang’s face at the comment, the usual curve of her lips faltering. 

“I, uh. I don’t have the bike anymore.”

“Ah.” 

Yang smiled weakly, “Yep. It’s just me and the truck now.” She patted the dashboard lovingly, “We’re good together though.” 

“It’s a nice truck.” Blake agreed, “Comfy, spacious, strong. Suits you.” 

“Thanks.”

Once again they were shrouded in awkward silence, Blake sneaking glances at Yang as she drove, each second seeming to deepen the divide between them. Yang did not appear upset or outwardly angry, but there was something tense about her expression, in the slight furrow of her brows and the way her rose gold plated prosthetic gripped the wheel. Their acquaintance was precarious, a fragile thing Blake was still feeling out the edges of, she didn’t want to create any more agitation than was necessary.

Hearing too much-- every breath they took, every shift in their seats, made Blake overthink every minute gesture. It set her on edge, suffocating her under a blanket of heavy tension. She had spent so much of her life being hyper aware for the sake of her survival that it was hard to turn it off.

“Do you, um,” Blake started, trying not to cringe at her own voice cutting through the silence. She was supposed to be stronger than this, than her damned anxiety, “...have a playlist or a radio that we could listen to?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Yang replied easily, leaning forward and pressing a few buttons on the digital interface between them. A strumming guitar and drum beats began to flow out of the speakers as Yang adjusted the volume so that it was not too loud. “This good?”

“Yes, thanks.” 

“No probs.” Yang shot her a gentle smile before turning her focus back to the road. 

Blake was able to breathe easier, loosening the vice hold she had on the door handle that she hadn’t even realized she was clutching. The blonde was mouthing the words along to the song, her fingers rhythmically tapping the wheel as the tension eased out of the truck. Yang hadn’t given her a reason to fear her-- not yet, at least. Yang had aided her in the past without any expectation, something Blake still struggled to wrap her mind around. Yang wasn’t _him_. Still, it was a big risk to lead Yang to where they had made their haven. Blake hoped she wouldn’t regret it.

When they arrived, Blake pointed Yang in the direction of her apartment block. Yang backed the van carefully in one of the parking spaces in the corner, open enough for Yang to work on it safely yet out of the way so it wouldn’t draw too much attention. Once detached, Yang exchanged scroll numbers with Blake, claiming she would have to get some of the replacement parts and tools from the shop in the morning. Though the thought of her minivan being out of commission for the night made her anxious, she knew it was practical given that Yang would be able to work better in daylight. 

“Don’t worry, Blake! I’ll swing by first thing in the morning and get it fixed up.” Yang wore a goofy smile as she stepped back from her, shooting a pair of finger guns her way, “I hope being hitched to me wasn’t too bad of an experience!” 

Blake rolled her eyes at the ridiculous blonde and waved her goodbye. She carried a sleepy Gren in her arms with the added weight of her work bag, taking one step at a time up the stairs to her apartment. It was a red door on the corner on the third floor, the numbers 312 engraved on a plaque just above the eyehole. She shifted Gren’s weight to her left arm as she slid the key into the door and unlocked it. 

She tucked their shoes by the door and put the bag down by the dining table. The apartment was small and rather devoid of furniture besides what she could fit in her van and what Ilia had sent over from Vale. Despite it appearing hollow and empty, it was home to them. For now, at least. 

Gren was ushered into the bathroom and they brushed their teeth together. Blake ruffled his hair as they walked to his bedroom. She tucked him in and read him old Menagerian stories until he fell asleep, cuddling his fluffy sloth plush that was half his size. Her heart swelled with affection and she smiled softly as he slept. Blake silently left the room, finally letting the weariness take her as she stumbled into her own bed and slumped down onto it.

Money. It was always a point of stress for Blake, to balance what she had to spend to keep them safe and mobile and what she could do to earn more. Between her freelance work online and local odd jobs it was always a tight fit. She already dropped a significant amount of lien on the three-month lease for the apartment and utilities. Now that they were here, she would have to latch on to as many opportunities to earn money and save it for their next move. That hardly accounted for the emergency expenditures. Barely a month ago she had to replace a flat tire and now there was a problem with the belt. It seemed bad luck would always plague her. 

* * *

_6:25AM_ **Yang:** heyyyyyyy wakey wakey blakey

_6:32AM_ **Blake** : ……

_6:32AM_ **Yang** : i’m here with the part to fix ur car! 

_6:32AM_ **Blake** : Oh. Wait. Could you give me a

few minutes to come down? I’d like to learn. 

_6:33AM_ **Yang** : ya totally, tyt!

* * *

There was the sunrise-- and then there was Yang. True to her word, she appeared on Blake’s doorstep, carrying the light of the dawn on her broad freckled shoulders and with an even brighter smile. Yang’s eyes were such a soft and captivating shade of violet, richer than the streaks of lavender that painted the sky. She wore deep orange overalls over a white tee, a sunflower patterned bandana around her neck, and a thermos full of coffee in her hand. Maybe Yang was some sort of divine embodiment of the sun sent to ease her troubles. It was a ridiculous thought but it might explain how she kept crossing Yang’s path whenever her luck ran thin.

Blake checked on Gren and found he was still asleep, curled up happily with his stuffed sloth, before joining Yang down in the parking lot. She watched the blonde replace the belt, all the while talking Blake through each of the steps for future reference. It wasn’t that complex of a process overall. When Yang finished inspecting the meters and engine for any other damages she wiped her hands on a cloth, leaving blackened smears on the fabric as it hung from her pocket. 

“You should be all set!” Yang said, beaming as she leaned against the van. Her smile faltered as she suddenly seemed to remember something. She rubbed her chin in thought, her brows furrowed as she glanced back into the van’s engine, “Although… I could’ve sworn I saw something else in there last night.”

Blake raised a brow, “How much do you wager with your eyesight?”

She huffed, waving it off, “Yeah, yeah, blame my dull Human eyes.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t stick your arm in there, then, huh?” Blake teased, glancing at Yang’s prosthetic. It was a pretty piece of technology. Not only did it appear to be fully functional, its black frame affixed with beautiful rose gold plating engraved with intricate designs along her forearm. Now that Blake had a better look, she could make them out as eastern dragons swirling over a stylized horizon, “Would’ve been a shame to tarnish such a work of art.”

Yang followed her gaze and shrugged, “I could fix it. I’d like to think I’m pretty good at mechanical stuff.”

“I didn’t mean just your arm,” Blake smirked. 

“O-oh?” The blonde sputtered, an adorable blush reddening her tan skin.

She rubbed the back of her neck as she smiled, looking at everything but Blake. Yang scuffed her boot, lightly kicking some cigarette butts over the asphalt by Blake’s tire. It was rather amusing, Blake thought, that Yang could get so flustered when she was otherwise flirtatious. Yang cleared her throat, pointing back to Blake’s taped up bumper with her thumb, “Uh, well, what about that masterpiece?”

“Ah, haven’t you heard of readymades? I’m a regular _Duchamp.”_

Yang cracked into a grin, holding back the first few snickers before her laughter came pouring out, “A what? You’re a champ? Blake, please, I’m begging you to let me take a look at that rear bumper.”

Blake shrugged, far too enthused to stop herself. “Hmm, I don’t know if we have that sort of relationship yet.” 

The response tore another bout of laughter from Yang. She brought a hand to her face as she shook her head, “Blake, you’re killing me.”

Blake smiled at her for a moment longer, savoring the joyful warmth of it before letting it go. She stepped closer, barely brushing Yang’s hip as she put one hand down on the van. She nodded towards the engine belt, “So, how much is it?” 

“Huh?” Yang’s grin faltered as she came back to the present, “The replacement part was 99 lien.” 

“And your service fee? I don’t suppose you normally make house calls.” 

Yang chuckled, “Usually not-- but I do for friends. Don’t worry about it, Blake.” 

_Friends…_ A frown weighed on Blake’s lips as she tugged a roll of lien from her back pocket. She scruitanized Yang’s eyes while she carefully counted out her cash and handed Yang five 20 lien bills for the part, “Are you sure? How else can I repay you?” 

Yang took the bills and tucked them into her leather wallet, in a pocket behind the flaming heart emblazoned on the cover. She pulled a 1 lien bill out and gave it back to Blake. Despite Blake’s apprehension, Yang’s expression was genuine and placating, “You don’t owe me a thing, Blake. Really.” 

Even after Yang’s departure, while Blake ate sugary cereal with Gren, she was still troubled by the sentiment. Blake was loath to be indebted to others. People always wanted something. She still felt so much guilt from the kindness her parents and Ilia had offered her. If it wasn’t for Gren’s sake, she would have denied them. She didn’t deserve their help after everything she had done with the Fang.

But Gren… He deserved so much better than this. 

* * *

The Arc’s living was quickly becoming a familiar backdrop for Blake. They were very friendly people and they were more than happy to have Blake and her son over-- if only because Zinc loved playing with Gren. Blake accepted their invitations for the benefit of keeping her son nearby as she worked on her laptop while letting him spend time with another kid his age. Daycare was expensive over long periods and she was always left feeling anxious but it was better than leaving him alone. Ilia’s assurances helped to ease Blake’s general distrust of the family and she was starting to accept that they genuinely cared about their comfort and wellbeing. 

She’s not sure how much Ilia had actually told Pyrrha about her situation but Pyrrha never pressed on it, only asking Blake about her day and what things she liked while the kids played. She always spoke in a serene and encouraging manner that put Blake at ease. Sometimes when Blake and Gren came over, Pyrrha would surprise her with a bag of Mistral fruits Blake had mentioned, claiming it was just something she found while at the grocery. In return, Blake introduced her to recipes from Menagerie and her days in the White Fang. Spending time with Pyrrha was… relaxing and fun, Blake decided after a couple of weeks.

Jaune was usually not around when they visited, tangled up with his work at the hospital. He seemed alright, though sometimes he carried himself with an undercurrent of tense anxiety that Blake could pick up a mile away. It took her longer to get used to him but found he was kind and always treated his wife and child with the utmost respect in even the smallest interactions. He reminded Blake of her father in that aspect, recognizing the stress in his eyes was a result of his duties rather than something he burdened his family with. Compared to what Blake had experienced over the years it was heartening to see Blake’s parents weren’t outliers.

Then there was Zinc, or “Zonk”, or “Zoink”, as Gren sometimes called them, as Gren’s pronunciation was still something he was working on. Zinc was an exceptionally happy child, confident and curious without any fear. Though Blake was concerned that Zinc might be a little too unafraid, she had to remind herself that they had less to worry about. They had a good family and community, far separated from the dangers of the underworld. Gren was still getting used to them, though they seemed to get along. Zinc always wanted to share their things with Gren and get him to smile. It was sweet.

Today was another of those visits. It was late in the afternoon, an hour or so after Pyrrha returned from her job at the center. Blake and Pyrrha sat in the living room, both mostly absorbed on their laptops as piano arrangements played from the bluetooth speaker. As Blake scrolled down a listing for jobs in the area, one about an opening at a Faunus owned cafe piqued her interest. It was worth looking more into later, perhaps after scoping out the place in person.

Outside, Zinc and Gren were on the playset acting out a game of grimm hunters. Zinc was short next to Gren, though Jaune claimed that the growth spurt would kick in later and Zinc would be taller than all of them. The children’s unrestrained joy and laughter could be heard from inside and often made Blake’s ears twitch, as they were always trained on Gren when he wasn’t in her sight. It was a beautiful sound-- like he was truly a normal child with no worries plaguing him. He was often so quiet and serious that it made her worried about him. She knew their lifestyle hadn't been the best for him. The constant moving. The paranoia. It was good for him to form positive bonds and connections with others. To have a friend.

_...A friend._

Blake glanced at Pyrrha from over the edge of the laptop before trying to focus back on her work. While Pyrrha was someone Blake considered a good friend, her mind often ended up wandering back to shades of lilac and gold. A little over a week had passed since the ex-mercenary helped her with her van. Despite having Yang’s phone number, Blake was reluctant to reach out, to get attached or to invite further risks. Still, Blake was curious about her. She was intriguing and bantering with her was amusing as it was exciting. Their pasts gave them a special sort of understanding of each other-- though Blake still was uncertain if that was a good thing. She sighed, shutting her eyes in frustration after an hour of going back and forth on the issue. 

“Pyrrha?” 

“Yes?” 

Blake met Pyrrha’s welcoming gaze. She bit her lip and decided it was worth investigating, “Could I… ask you about Yang?” 

Pyrrha nodded, her smile open and encouraging, “Of course. What would you like to know?” 

Blake’s brows furrowed as she struggled to put into words exactly what she wanted, “Uh. Is she normally so… helpful?” 

“Very much so. Yang has a good heart. She always helps others when she can even if she gets a few bruises in the process.” Pyrrha chuckled, memories of their youth twinkling in her verdant eyes. “She’s a reliable friend-- and also a great babysitter, if you can believe it! She’s always been good with kids, even back when we were just high schoolers.”

“Oh, really? I suppose I can buy that. She is quite nice.”

Blake’s lips twitched, remembering Yang from the gas station, full of fire and confidence. The cuts and burns, the reddened skin on her neck from when Yuma tried to strangle her-- and yet all she cared about was Blake’s injuries. Her eyes had been filled with raw concern and her touch had been so gentle. And then she just drove away, asking for nothing in return. 

Blake’s fingers froze on the keyboard.

“She seems a little different from when I met her all those years ago. May I ask what happened to her?”

The mirth on Pyrrha’s face extinguished instantly. Her eyes filled with sadness as she glanced toward a large framed photograph over the fireplace. Blake only recognized Pyrrha, Jaune, and Yang from the numerous smiling faces in it. 

“Yang was in a terrible motorcycle accident. Thankfully, she came back to us alive.” Pyrrha smiled weakly, “She’s been doing better these days. But Yang could tell you about all of that better than I.” 

“Ah, I understand,” Blake said. It explained the mystery of Yang’s bike, amongst other things. She tapped her finger idly on the edge of her laptop, “Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.”

The sliding door rattled before it finally slid open, letting the children in. Gren paused by the door to take off his shoes and brush off his tail as Zinc clattered into the kitchen.

“Mom! Can we have pizza rolls?” Zinc exclaimed.

Zinc was flailing in anticipation while Pyrrha rose gracefully from her seat, “Alright, let me show you how to make them.” 

Blake turned on the couch, spotting Gren hesitating still at the door. He looked to her, a sort of doubt in his eyes like he felt out of place. Blake smiled reassuringly and nodded towards the Arcs. His apprehension was replaced with excitement and he bounced over to Zinc, his tail launching him forward like a third leg. Zinc threw their arms around him as they watched Pyrrha bring out the box of pizza rolls from the freezer, celebrating the occasion as if they had saved the day. A proper feast for such small heroes. Gren hugged them back. 

* * *

_1:32PM_ **Blake:** Hey.

_1:40PM_ **Yang:** heyyo, watup!

_1:43PM_ **Blake:** I was just wondering 

how you’ve been. 

_1:44PM_ **Yang:** aha well u caught me on my work break.

its just been the usual, nothing too exciting.

hows u and the kiddo?

_1:45PM_ **Blake:** Good. I was playing with him

on his console. He’s pretty good at it.

_1:45PM_ **Yang:** ooo what game?

_1:46PM_ **Blake:** Smash.

It was a gift from his 

grandparents.

_1:47PM_ **Yang:** nice!! i used to play those 

games a lot with Ruby. 

_1:47PM_ **Blake:** Who’s that?

_1:48PM_ **Yang:** my lil sis

-image uploaded: photo108_54.jpg- 

that’s us at her birthday last year. 

_1:49PM_ **Blake:** Aw, that’s sweet. 

1:50PM **Yang:** yeah, i’m super proud of her. she’s 

coming down with her partners next weekend for the reunion party!

i’d love to introduce u guys :D

1:55PM **Blake:** I’d like that :)

When is the party?

_1:56PM_ **Yang:** Pyrrha’s house next saturday.

it’ll be from 3-8pm. it’s gonna be awesome!

* * *

Online, there had been many positive reviews about the cafe and bookstore in central Patch that Blake was interested in checking out. It was only about ten minutes from their apartment and the roads to get there were easy to navigate. 

There were lovely oak planters lining the cafe’s facade, sitting in the shade of a sepia tinted awning. Running along the top of the quaint building was a glowing red sign, _Hugs with Mugs._ There was a cute illustration of a mug and teacup smiling and holding hands on the window. She couldn’t restrain a small smile at how adorable and welcoming the cafe presented itself.

When she pressed through the door, pausing in the doorway to usher Gren in, she was satisfied to find the interior was even more homey. The cafe smelled pleasantly of roasted beans and cinnamon. 

There were bookshelves lining the back wall with comfortable little reading nooks beside a spiral staircase to the second floor where she could make out more bookcases. A rainbow banner was tied to the railing of the second floor, hanging just over the food counter. There was stool seating along the counter and booths along the windowed wall, the seats designed with accessibility in mind. That was an issue she often paid attention to because Gren’s tail made it uncomfortable for him to use solid backed chairs.

There were a few occupied tables, a mix of Faunus and Human customers talking over their drinks, some wrapped up in their laptops and others focused on reading. She loved places like this-- tea and books, her favorite combination. However, as the atmosphere smoothed over her tense nerves, she felt Gren clutching her hand a little tighter. He tried to stand ahead of her, alert and altogether too stiff. She rubbed small circles on his hand, hoping the gesture would help him relax. It would take a few visits for him to get comfortable, but Blake was certain they would likely be visiting the cafe in the future. 

A blond man cheerfully took their order, using his tail to punch them into his tablet. A iced cup of hibiscus tea, a bottle of apple juice, and a plate of the local special club sandwiches. He finished inputting the information with a little flourish, shooting her a finger gun and a wink. 

Blake giggled, if only because he looked so out of place in the cafe with his shirt haphazardly buttoned, a crooked little nametag with ‘Sun’ engraved on it was hanging on by a thread of the deep red apron draped over him. One of his coworkers, a brunette with a blonde highlight and shades, clearly didn’t find him as cute. She tapped his shoulder and sternly told him to fix his uniform before she returned to mixing drinks. 

Blake and Gren sat in a booth not too far from the pick-up counter. Gren was less tense after their food arrived. He was always happy to eat, especially when there was fruit juice involved. She smiled affectionately as he ate half of the club sandwich. Gren pulled out the avocado slices and left bits of the bread. Blake encouraged him to try eating the leftover bits as food should never be wasted but only succeeded in getting him to take one discarded piece of crust. She finished the last slice of avocado as he crunched quietly.

“What do you think, koun?”

He scrunched up his nose in serious thought, glancing around the room again before giving her a firm nod of approval, “It’s nice.” 

“Yeah? I rather like it. Look at all the books you could read.” 

Gren hummed, eyeing the reading nooks and then looking back to Blake, “It is cool. Can I go up on that seat?”

He pointed to one of the nooks on the elevated steps between the first and second floor. She walked over to the nooks with him after cleaning up their meal, showing him the rules sign posted on the adjacent wall before giving him permission. Gren excitedly hunched down before launching himself a few feet into the air to climb and curl into the cushions, completely ignoring the ladder helpfully posted beside it. She shook her head affectionately at his antics and passed him a colorful picture book about the four seasons. 

Behind her, Blake heard a soft chuckle, “He’s quite enthusiastic. Most kids are only into video games these days.”

The source of the voice was a woman with long brown hair and rabbit ears. She was wearing a vest of the same dark red color as the employees at the counter, yet her name, Velvet Scarlatina, was embroidered in golden thread on the fabric. Blake recognized her from the cafe’s website.

Blake nodded at her, a bit of pride burning in her chest, “If he inherits anything from me it will be a healthy appreciation for literature.”

As Velvet smiled, Blake noticed the walls behind her. Above the windows that lined the storefront were dozens of framed photographs-- subjects varying from gorgeous landscapes from all around Remnant to groups of friends, all imbued with the same profound feeling of community and love. Of _home_. 

“It’s beautiful.” Blake murmured, amazed that she didn’t see the photographs when she walked in, “Did you take all those photos?”

Velvet smirked, “Yeah, it's one of my passions!” 

“She always takes the best shots.” The barista added in a low and smooth drawl as she casually leaned against the counter. 

“Coco…” Velvet trailed off, a blush dusting her cheeks.

Coco laughed, “You call the shots.” She lowered her shades a fraction of an inch just so Velvet could see her winking. Coco stepped back with an easy swagger like she owned the place. “And I’ll make them.” 

Velvet turned back to Blake with a bashful smile that suggested Coco was always like this. Sunglasses and smug confidence-- it reminded Blake of when she first met Yang. She was starting to wonder if it was a Vale thing. 

“ _Espresso shots_ , that is.” Coco continued, offering a small glass of the highly concentrated coffee from over the counter. Velvet gave her a minute shake of the head and Coco shrugged and downed the shot herself, slowly licking her lips with a content hum.

Velvet pinched the bridge of her nose, “Don’t mind my wife. Coffee just happens to be one of her passions.”

“I get it, trust me” Blake replied dryly. She took another look around the homey establishment and smiled, “Are you guys still hiring?” 

“Oh!” Velvet uttered. She studied Blake for a moment, glancing up at Gren in the nook before leaning a hand on her hip and nodding, “Yes, I have an application you can fill out if you want to join our coffee team.”

Gren was happily flipping through the book, his expression relaxed and content as his amber eyes glittered with curiosity. Blake would do anything to keep him safe and happy. Overall, the cafe seemed to be a decent place. 

Blake shook Velvet’s hand, “I’d love to.”

* * *

_5:12PM_ **Blake:** Hey, Yang?

_5:24PM_ **Yang:** ya

_5:25PM_ **Blake:** What kind of coffee 

do you drink?

_5:26PM_ **Yang:** ooo thats hard bc i’m not 

really picky. i like a good ole french roast 

with hazelnut cream. sometimes i mix in 

some honey. if i order coffee tho, i 

always get something with caramel... 

_5:27PM_ **Blake:** I see

_5:27PM_ **Yang:** wbu

_5:28PM_ **Blake:** Oh, I prefer tea over coffee.

My favorite is jasmine, though 

chamomile is always soothing. 

_5:30PM_ **Yang:** ahh i can beleaf that

_5:34PM_ **Blake:** Stop

_5:34PM_ **Yang:** but puns are my special tea

_5:34PM_ **Blake:** No.

* * *

Beams of light broke the cloudy sky above them, a gentle breeze caressing her cheek. It was rare that Blake could have moments like these where she was able to simply appreciate the day. She turned the page in her old book, glancing up from her seat on a park bench to watch Gren climbing the colorful geometric dome in the center of the playground. 

He waved at her from the peak, a proud grin on his face. She smiled and pulled out her scroll to take a photo of him. She sent the photo to her parents who immediately replied with about twenty different heart emojis. Her finger hesitated as she found herself tempted to send the picture to Yang as well. They had been texting almost daily now, just small things here and there-- but it was nice, having someone to share even the most mundane things in life with. Even if there was a high chance Yang would make some sort of awful pun out of it. 

Blake returned to her book. It was yellowed and weathered on the edges, the binding still holding itself together after all these years. She’d read it countless times but it always held a special place in her heart. The corner of her mouth twitched as her thumb ran over old notes left in the corner by her mother’s hand. Even when they had been apart, reading the comments was like having a conversation with her, discussing and analyzing the story together. Sometimes it was all that brought her comfort when she was with the White Fang. She missed her. It had been about fifteen months since the last visit. 

Three years ago, she stood on her parent’s doorstep for the first time in a decade. Rain crashed around her as she clutched Gren’s small body to her chest, her body shivering and aching from the cold. Kali had pushed open the door, her tearful eyes filled with shock... and relief.

“Koun?” Her mother called out, voice breaking in disbelief. She hurried forward and cupped Blake’s cheeks, tears running down her face and mixing with the downpour. 

“Mai…” Blake exhaled as their foreheads touched, Kali’s hands grasping her shoulders. 

“You’re home. You’re really home, my baby girl.”

She pulled back shakily, staring into Blake’s haunted eyes as if she was still trying to convince herself this was real-- that Blake wasn’t some sort of mirage in the rain. Then Kali turned her gaze to Gren who was equally mystified by her, his eyes wide and confused, the amber of his iris matching their own.

She looked back to Blake in a silent question to which she nodded.

“Oh jaow…” Kali whispered as she stepped closer and kissed the top of his little head, hugging them both tightly.

Thundering footsteps approached them from inside the house, her father's voice rumbled over the patter of the rain-- hearing it again after so many years broke another dam of tears from Blake’s eyes, “Kali? Why are you out in the rain?”

He gasped, dropping what he was holding. A thick towel crumbled onto the wooden floor. 

“Blake!”

They had spent the rest of the night talking, curled in blankets around the fireplace. Kali had been intent on filling their stomachs with soft jasmine rice and pan seared fish. It was the first time in a long time that Blake had felt safe, that she could feel the warmth sinking in through her clothes and trickling into her veins. 

Acceptance. Safety. Love. 

These were the things parents were supposed to be-- the things that she strived to give to her son. Even if it meant living on the run. 

“Hey! Yeah, I’m talking to you!” 

Blake’s ears pinned back at the sharp yell. Her heart sank into her gut as she located the source, an older woman with stringy platinum blonde hair in a pink tee, hands propped on her hips as she loomed over Gren by one of the playsets. He was shocked stiff, shrinking under the woman’s glare as she blocked his escape. Blake’s hands curled into fists as she sprinted to Gren’s side. 

“What is the problem here?” Blake asked, trying to keep her voice even.

Gren turned to her, his eyes wide. He clinged to Blake’s side, his small frame trembling in fear. The woman’s icy eyes snapped between Blake’s face and her ears. Blake clenched her jaw. 

“Well!” The other woman began with a scoff, her nasally tone of condescension already grating on Blake’s nerves. “This _child_ tripped my daughter with his tail! She could have been badly hurt! This is _precisely_ why _children like him_ shouldn’t be allowed at public playgrounds like this.” 

Blake took a shaky breath and unfurled one of her fists, resting her hand reassuringly on Gren’s back, “I’m sorry that there was an accident and I’m sure Gren apologized too.” 

Gren nodded into her side and she gently squeezed his shoulder. Blake narrowed her eyes, “But Faunus are not restricted in Patch and if that makes you uncomfortable, maybe you should move somewhere more suited to your delicate sensibilities-- Like Mistral or Atlas.”

She huffed iritabbly, fuming red at Blake’s words. Angrily, she opened her mouth, likely planning to screech but looking closer to that of a fish out of water. Blake stood her ground, ready to counter whatever the woman threw at her.

“I don’t have a problem with the Faunus!” She interjected in shrill protest, “--some are just naturally more dangerous than others. He’s like, a kangaroo, right?”

“He’s a child. You’re discriminating against him based on his tail?” Blake bit back, unflinching. The woman coughed uncomfortably.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

A familiar voice startled Blake but not all together in an unpleasant way. Beside her was Yang, dressed lightly for jogging, her golden hair spilling out of her ponytail as she pulled out one of her earbuds. Across from them, the woman also seemed to relax at the sight of Yang. It only served to make Blake’s blood boil in a different way than before. 

“The problem is that this Faunus is too dangerous to-”

Yang just raised a brow, “If that's how you think, you should leave.”

She sputtered, pointing indignantly at Blake, “But-- I’m- That’s what _she_ told me!”

“She’s right. People like _you_ aren’t welcome here,” Yang replied sharply. 

The woman scoffed and threw out her arms but didn’t antagonize them further. She retreated, muttering under her breath as she dragged her confused child along behind her. 

“Yeesh,” Yang murmured, “You two alright?”

Blake gave a short nod at Yang before sinking to her knees beside Gren. He was very distressed, fidgeting with an old coin between his fingers as tears rolled down his face. She squeezed his shoulders gently but he was still staring at the patchy grass, uneven sniffles interrupting his breaths.

“What are you feeling, koun?”

He exhaled, his expressions shifting between upset and angry, “It’s… not fair. I didn’t do nothing.” 

“I know, koun, I know. Sometimes people are cruel but that doesn’t make them right. You did good. Is your tail hurt?”

His lip trembled as she ran her fingers through his hair. His tail looked fine on the outside, yet she was still concerned. Gren squeezed the coin and uttered, “It’s okay.”

Finally he raised his watery eyes to meet hers. It broke her heart. She brushed away the tear on his cheek, “You are so brave. Braver than you should ever have to be.”

Blake pressed their foreheads together, rubbing small circles on his shoulders until he calmed down. Gren wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly. He let go after a few minutes, pulling back with one final sniffle. 

Softly, she smiled, “What would you like to do now?”

Gren looked back at the park where the other children shrieking with delight as they played their games. He frowned, shifting anxiously on his feet and tail. Blake glanced around the park, spotting an open field not too far away and a slushie stand.

“How about… we get a slushie and play frisbee? Would you like that?” 

His amber eyes lit up and he nodded.

“Okay. Let’s do that.”

She stood with Gren’s hand in hers and turned, finding Yang standing a few feet away, watching them with concern brimming in her lilac eyes. Blake sighed and walked by Yang to gather her things from the bench, “We have to stop meeting like this.”

“Like what?” Yang asked softly, trailing behind Blake with uncertain steps.

Blake stuffed her worn book into her bag and pulled it over her shoulder before looking back up to Yang.

“Like you’re the hero coming to rescue me. I was handling it fine.”

“I’m sorry. I know you didn’t need help,” Her face was open and genuine, the soft sunlight brushing over the faint scar on her freckled cheek. Despite Blake’s suspicions, Yang wasn’t regarding her with pity-- there was something else in her gaze. Respect. Yang cracked a small smile, “That lady seemed like a huge jerk, though, so I wanted to give you some support. I remember we’re pretty good at tag teaming.”

Blake huffed in slight amusement. She couldn’t argue with that. She relaxed her stance, beginning to walk toward the snack stand with Gren by her side. Blake glanced back at Yang who was still standing by the bench and raised a brow, “So what brought you here?”

Yang blinked in surprise before grinning brightly. She quickly caught up to them to match their pace. “Oh, I’ve been getting back into my exercise routine. I jog here every weekend afternoon at least.”

Blake hummed, “It is a nice day, all things considered.”

“Yeah...”

Blake ordered a blueberry slushie and pushed the straw around it to break up some of the ice before handing it to Gren who was vibrating with excitement. “Carefully, if you eat too quickly you could get brain freeze.” 

He stuck his tongue out at her, already tinted blue. Blake laughed and ruffled his hair. Yang was right behind them with a frozen lemonade. They went out to the field, putting their stuff down by one of the trees. 

As Blake pulled the green frisbee from her bag, she met Yang’s eyes, “Would you like to join us?” 

Yang stretched her arms with a grin, “Sure!” She turned to Gren, “What do you think, buddy? Can I join y'all?”

One hand rested in the pocket of his dark ochre cargo shorts as he slurped the icy treat, considering it for what felt like a whole minute before giving her a small, stern nod. 

“Yes!” Yang pumped her fist in victory as she beamed at Blake, who rolled her eyes at the golden haired dork and ran back a few feet to give them adequate space. 

“Ready?” Blake called out.

Gren raised his thumb up in affirmation, hunching his body in anticipation. Blake smiled and stepped forward, whipping the frisbee towards him. It arced high as it flew towards him. He launched himself several feet into the air with the aid of his tail and caught the disc as they cheered him on. He flung it at Yang, who almost didn't snap out of her awe in time to catch it before it hit her in the face. She laughed and spun, throwing the frisbee at Blake with a ridiculous amount of flair. Blake snatched it out of the air with a chuckle, “What was that?” 

“Oh, I learned it from an old friend. She’s one of my lil sister’s partners!” Yang replied before doing another dramatic twirl and bowing.

Blake laughed and launched it high to Gren again and he happily leapt to catch it. They kept the rotation up for a few more rounds before the frisbee got knocked into a tree by a gust of wind. Gren jumped under the branches, attempting to grab on. 

“I got it!” Yang shouted.

“You don’t have to cl-” Blake began as she considered the best angle of attack, but Yang had already scrambled up the tree. 

“I got it!” She shouted again, this time waving the green disc over her head triumphantly. Gren even clapped for her.

Yang’s expression went from joyous victory to horror as a loud crack gave way under one of her sneakers. Blake cringed as Yang promptly fell out of the tree, landing on her back in a heap of leaves and broken branches. 

“Yang!” Blake called as she slid to her side. Yang groaned as Blake quickly kneeled over her to check if she was injured. 

“It’s kay. I’m good,” The blonde rasped, still recovering from having the breath knocked out of her.

Satisfied that only Yang’s ego was harmed, she gently brushed her fingers through Yang’s hair, dislodging stray leaves from it. In a total deadpan, Blake finally commented, “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

Yang’s eyes widened before she burst out laughing, one hand clenching her stomach. She wiped a tear from her eye and smiled warmly at Blake, “Nah.” She exhaled, “It was nothing compared to when I fell for you.” 

Blake snorted, a flash of heat reaching her cheeks as she lightly smacked Yang’s shoulder, “Why are you like this?” 

“What can I say?” She drawled out with a smirk, “I like danger.” 

Scoffing, Blake flopped down to lay beside Yang. Gren was a few feet away, fidgeting with his coin again. Blake gestured for him to join them. He rolled onto his side beside her and they looked up at the sky together. 

“What does that cloud look like to you?” Blake asked as she pointed to one of the puffy shapes floating above them.

“Dino!” Gren answered.

“What kind of dino?”

“Try… Try syrup tocks.”

“Ooh, I see it!” Yang joined in with a chuckle, “The triceratops is chasing a bunny.”

Gren squeaked in response, “A bunny!”

“They’re friends.” Blake added, looping at arm around Gren’s shoulders and squeezing him gently. 

He smiled up at the sky in contentment. Blake turned her face to gaze at Yang who pointed out more cloud shapes as she weaved a silly story together.

There was something _wonderful_ about Yang. She had no right to be so endearing and so reckless at the same time. She was so damn audacious, flaunting her strength-- though her power was n o bluff. But she was also so kind, goofy, and compassionate. She had always treated Blake well and Blake enjoyed her company. She liked how Yang was with Gren, how she cared about and respected his opinion. 

It was foolish. She couldn’t get too attached to anyone in Patch-- she shouldn’t-- But damn was it tempting, especially when Yang turned and caught her stare, her iliac eyes shimmering playfully as a soft smirk grew on her lips. Blake couldn’t have looked away even if she wanted to.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Yang straightened out her deep indigo bowtie in the mirror, liking how the light reflected off of the subtle floral design on it. While Yang always had a touch of purple in her wardrobe to go with her eyes, she was starting to associate the color more and more with Blake. A smile crept on her face at the thought of the dark haired woman, though she was quick to shake it off. She rolled up the sleeves of her white button down shirt, sighing as the fabric got caught on the edge of her prosthetic on the way up to her elbow. She studied her reflection for half a minute; something was missing but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She snapped her fingers as an idea struck her. Yang returned a moment later, completing the look with suspenders and a satisfied grin. Now this… this would do.

When she arrived at the Arc residence, they were putting the finishing touches for the reunion party, setting aside tables for food platters and gathering enough chairs for everyone. Pyrrha was looking resplendent as always in a long and elegant autumnal sequin dress. Zinc scampered after her around the house, so eager to mimic their mother that they wore a matching dress. Jaune just threw on a yellow floral shirt, insisting he’d only break out his dress if it was a real ball. He dusted off the old karaoke machine and hauled it out of the garage. Yang still thought it would be cooler if they brought out the fog machines.

They shooed Yang outside to greet the guests-- likely due to Yang’s palpable anticipation. It was another pleasant day in Patch, the skies clear and bright, the warmth comfortably blanketing her tanned skin. She waited on the front lawn, her hands resting on her hips as she squinted down the road of the cul de sac. 

A white Cadillac sedan drove up to the house and slowed to a stop by the curb, the plain licence plate slapped on the front a clear give away that it was a rental. Yang couldn’t suppress her grin as the tinted passenger window slowly lowered to reveal the occupants. Ruby’s silver irises sparkled with joy and mischief over the large designer shades that clearly belonged to Weiss as she waved at Yang through the window, “Hey stranger!“

“Nerd alert!” Yang cackled as she approached the car.

Beside Ruby, Weiss leaned forward from the driver side, “Dumbass.”

“Ice queen!”

Weiss rolled her eyes with an affectionate scoff. A third head burst in between the two, her orange hair flying behind her and brushing against Weiss’ shoulder. She beamed with happiness as she called out, “Hi!” 

“Hey Penny.” Yang chuckled, propping her hand over the car window and leaning over them. 

Penny was their friend from Atlas University so Yang was not as familiar with her but she seemed very sweet and excitable. She never met her in person before-- though Penny had made many appearances in vid calls, popping in from the background to wave cheerfully. 

“Come on now and park your car so I can give y’all your hugs.”

Penny gasped, “I **love** hugs!”

Ruby smiled at her, “Yang gives the best bear hugs in all of Remnant.” 

Penny gasped again, emerald eyes wide and sparkling with somehow more excitement. Weiss groaned as she shifted the gears, “Only if you enjoy being throttled like a rag doll and getting your back broken.”

“What’s that? Weiss wants a super-duper hug? Aww, I missed you too,” Yang teased.

Weiss glared daggers at her and pulled the car away from the curb, leaving Yang laughing. 

After they found a place to park their rental, they made their way back to Yang. Ruby jogged ahead of her partners in her typical affair of a graphic punk tee, black skirt, and platform boots. Weiss was in a light blue halter dress with a short sleeved jacket as she looped her arm around Penny’s in a courteous manner. She had a large bag hanging off her shoulder, a fluffy mass of white sticking out of one side that took shape as a terrier’s head as they came closer. Penny was happy to be guided along as her eyes darted around at the neighborhood and the Arc’s house. She wore a black satin bow and a green sun dress that almost seemed to glow under the sunlight.

Ruby lept into Yang’s arms with a gleeful laugh, “Yaaaaaang, it’s been forever!”

Yang hugged her tightly and spun them around twice for good measure before putting her down. “Yeah, it really has. I’m so happy you guys made it out here, Rubes!”

Behind Ruby, Penny was bouncing with excitement, “Ooh may I go next?” She turned to Weiss, “May I?”

Weiss flicked her hand unenthusiastically, her voice flat. “Knock yourself out.” 

Penny nearly squealed in her happiness and hopped right into Yang’s arms, latching her arms around Yang’s neck. Yang laughed and spun her around as well. Penny let go of her and clapped, “That was sensational! Thank you.”

Yang gave her a nod before looming over Weiss with a devious smirk, “Ready for your turn?”

Weiss pointedly looked away from Yang, her arms crossed. The dog in her bag looked at Yang curiously. 

Weiss sniffed, “Well, get on with it.”

Yang leaned down and wrapped her in a gentle embrace. The smaller woman relaxed and hugged her back. 

“I so did not miss you.” Weiss murmured as they parted, provoking another bout of laughter from Yang. 

Weiss had shared many of the same classes with Yang back in high school, much to Weiss’ dismay. Despite Yang’s tendency to fall asleep at school and her spotty record at turning in homework, she _always_ scored higher than Weiss on tests. They had even had a brief rivalry period-- mostly on Weiss’ side as Yang had been rather oblivious and too distracted by issues at home to notice. There was hardly time to sleep after school when she had to balance caring for Ruby, training, and running jobs under the table.

Weiss had found Yang passed out on the bleachers after school one day, leading to a confrontation and the discovery of the bruises and scars littering Yang’s arms. Yang would have teased her for going soft, but in the dimming sunlight over the football field Weiss stayed silent and gentle. When Yang asked her not to tell Ruby about it, she listened. Although Yang never involved Weiss in her extra curricular activities, she suspected Weiss knew. She never pried on the matter, instead insisting to form study groups at Yang’s house to keep Ruby company when Yang was busy. It was an escape for her too-- as Weiss eventually revealed her own scars. As fractured as the Xiao Long-Rose household was, Weiss found a family in their company rather than the cold halls of the Schnee manor. 

“Soooo sis,” Ruby began innocently, “who’s the girl?”

Yang blinked in confusion and looked around, cursing herself for missing Blake’s arrival only to realize that it was still just the four of them on the Arc’s driveway. 

“Really, Yang?” Weiss scoffed.

“What?” She crossed her arms defensively, “What girl?”

“You only dress up to impress girls.” Ruby shot back, eyes alight with amusement and mischief. “So who is it? When will she be here? Why haven’t I heard about her?”

Yang sputtered, “I can’t just look nice for a happy reunion party with my darling sister and our treasured friends?”

“Last time you showed up in a pair of stained overalls,” Weiss replied, pointedly raising a brow.

“That was because I just got out from work!” 

“Well, I think you look charming!” Penny interjected with a bright smile. 

Yang gestured at her, “Thank you, Penny. At least _some_ people appreciate me! Now would y’all please make your way inside, I’m sure they’re very excited to see you.” 

Ruby patted Yang’s shoulder as she passed by with her partners, “Okay, okay, we’ll leave you to bravely continue your lone vigil. Stay strong sis, our prayers are with you.”

Yang blew a raspberry at her and turned her gaze back to the road. The next to arrive was a bright pink top down Jeep that could be spotted from a mile away, a figure Yang instantly recognised as Nora posed and ready to leap out of the top of the moving vehicle. Thankfully, she waited until it came to a full stop before she launched herself onto Yang. Despite firmly planting her feet in the ground, Nora’s weight threw her off balance, causing Yang to stumble back as Nora cackled wildly. 

Ren helped pry Nora off of Yang as they exchanged greetings. The pair were wearing matching patterned pants with Ren’s shirt reading ‘if lost, return to Nora’ and Nora’s shirt covered in bold letters reading, ‘i’m NORAAAAAAA’. Behind them trailed an awkward preteen boy in a simple button up shirt and khaki slacks.

“And who’s this?” Yang asked as she looked down at the kid. 

Ren put a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder, “My little brother.”

“Yeah, this is Oscar! He’s hanging out with us as part of a program,” Nora added, ruffling the boy’s brown hair. Oscar chucked sheepishly.

Yang grinned, “Welcome to the family, little dude.” 

Yang ushered them to the front door, music and chatter pouring out as they stepped inside. She glanced back at the road and checked her watch. It had been twenty minutes now. Inside, her friends and family were all together for the first time in three years. She should be in there. And yet…

Her fingers hesitated over the knob. Just as she was about to grip the handle, she heard the crunch of asphalt under a tire, the engine shutting off. A dark violet minivan had pulled into the driveway and Blake was climbing out of the driver’s seat. Yang paused in the doorway and bit her lip, willing herself to be calm despite the sudden spike of emotion in her chest. Blake looked _good--_ she had a slim leather jacket over a deep orchid vest and black denim jeans. Blake was unbuckling Gren from his seat and smiled when she saw Yang approaching them. 

“Hey.” Yang greeted her, feeling a bit breathless. 

“Hi,” Blake replied, “Is it okay if I park here?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s good!” 

When she got to Blake’s side, Yang opened her arms out of habit, faltering part way when she remembered that they had no precedent for greeting hugs. Blake’s ear twitched towards her and she took a glance at her before reaching into her van and placing a covered tray in her extended hands. 

Blake smirked, “Thanks.” 

“Uh, yeah no probs,” Yang replied with an awkward grin. She made eye contact with Gren who seemed to be dissecting her with his gaze, “Heya, Gren.” 

“Hewo.” He murmured softly, a serious expression on his small round face.

He was trying to look tough even as he climbed into Blake’s arms while she locked her minivan. He was wearing a polo shirt and dark brown cargo pants. A green gingham patterned scarf was wrapped around his collar. One of the fringed ends had an embroidered diamond framed by curling and unfurling lines with ‘Menagerie’ sewed underneath it.

Yang caught the way Blake’s eyes roamed over her form, a playful curve on her lips as she spoke, “You’re looking sharp.” 

Heat flared over Yang’s face and neck, “Not as much as you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Blake chuckled lowly as she started to walk towards the Arc’s front door. 

“Yeah!” She uttered, “I like your jacket.”

Blake paused, turning back to Yang with a brow raised.

“It really goes great with your…” Yang swallowed, struck by the way the sunlight brushed over her features and how nicely she fit in that outfit. Her voice cracked, “...your everything.” 

The absolutely incredulous look Blake gave her had Yang fidgeting and mentally booking a plane ticket. Vanishing into the sands of Vacuo sounded appealing at the moment. Blake shook her head affectionately, biting her lip as a small blush darkened her cheeks, “You’re ridiculous.” 

Gods, she looked so cute Yang felt her heart stuttering, tripping over itself again and again. This was… such a bad idea. It was when Blake turned to open the door that Yang noticed Gren’s intense glare from over Blake’s shoulder, his amber eyes seeming to burn holes right through her. She gave him a sheepish smile. His eyes narrowed. 

Blake put Gren down after they stepped inside, gently running her fingers through his hair and pointing out where Zinc and Oscar were sitting. Weiss was lingering near the door, the dog now in her arms rather than the large purse hanging from her shoulder. 

“Oh, hello there. You must be Yang and Pyrrha’s new friend. I’m Weiss Schnee. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Blake looked warily between the dog and Weiss but offered a hand and a tight lipped smile as Gren immediately scrambled to hide behind her. “Hi, I’m Blake-- and that little one is Gren.” 

  
“Hey Gren,” Weiss said sweetly as she elegantly shook Blake’s hand. It was honestly so cute how Weiss melted for children and dogs-- a far cry from her usual icy disposition. _‘Some people deserve it’,_ she had said once while pointedly elbowing Yang, ‘ _but not them, they never mean to hurt anyone’._ Weiss scratched her little terrier’s head adoringly, “This is my only baby, Glu.”

The corner of Blake’s mouth twitched, “...Glue?”

“It’s short for Glucose,” Weiss quickly added, “--my partners are dolts. They _insisted_ on naming him after some type of sugar.”

“It’s cause y’all are sooo sweet and cuddly,” Yang interjected.

“Go away, Yang.” Weiss maintained her smile, though Yang caught the slightest twitch of her eyebrow as she resisted the temptation to roll her eyes.

Blake shifted awkwardly as she glanced down at Gren tugging on her jeans. Tentatively, she lifted her hand closer to the Westie, “Does Glu bite?”

Deep brown eyes sparkled under long white brows as Glu sniffed curiously at Blake’s hand. The dog wiggled excitedly in Weiss’ arms, tail wagging furiously. Weiss shook her head. “Oh, no, Glu is very friendly!” 

Yang smiled as Blake carefully pet the dog, showing that it was safe for Gren to try. After a few hesitant strokes and an encouraging lick from the dog, Gren was grinning. Yang slipped away to put up the tray of food on the buffet table. Blake joined her a moment later, her jacket left on the hook by the door. The unobscured sight of Blake’s loosely cuffed shirt with the vest terminated the existing processes in Yang’s brain. Her eyes flicked away almost immediately to the food, afraid of misstepping and revealing just how much of a disaster she really is. Honestly, she’s already so gay how did Blake keep doing this to her? 

“So, what did you bring?” Yang asked, barely keeping her tongue from tripping over her words.

“Naem chao, look.” Blake lifted the top of the tray, revealing several rows of fresh summer rolls.

“Ooh sweet!” Yang was amazed at how neat and compact all the rolls were. She reached over to grab two plates, eyeing the rice paper and wondering how long it took Blake to make all of them.

Blake smiled, “Yeah, I was teaching Gren how to make them earlier-- though his were more akin to overstuffed burritos.” 

Yang chuckled, “Sounds delicious either way.”

She handed Blake a plate, “Take whatever you like, there’s your barbeque chicken, ribs, garden salad-- Ren and Nora brought watermelon over there,” she pointed to the platter on the end table behind Blake. “Would you like something to drink? They got sodas, fruit juice, and some mixers.” 

Blake hummed in thought as she started to put food on the plate, “Sure, fruit juice sounds nice. Can you pour one for Gren too?”

Yang grabbed three of the party cups, colorful plastic in the shape of pineapples, filling two with fruit juice and the last with orange soda for herself. She labeled them with a permanent marker, doodling little stars and happy faces by their names. When she glanced back at Blake, she was already in the living room, handing a plate of diced melon and bunches of grapes to Gren. Yang found herself smiling softly. Blake was such a good mom. Yang’s eyes followed her as she joined the semi-circle Pyrrha formed with Penny, Ren, and Nora.

A red blur abruptly slid into Yang’s side against the counter. “That’s her, huh?” 

“Wha-?” Yang jolted, fumbling with the pineapple cups and nearly dropping them. Damn, she really was rusty. Yang glared at the perpetrator.

Ruby leveled a shiteating grin at Yang while nodding towards Blake. Yang carefully kept her eyes on her sister’s face - a glance in that direction was too risky with Ruby waiting for her reaction. They maintained the fierce stare off for maybe two whole minutes before Yang had to blink. With a huff, Yang relented, “Yeah, okay, that’s _her_. I was gonna introduce you guys before going into detail about it. She came to town a little under a month ago.”

“I can’t start a proper mission without intel, sis! You know that!” 

Yang sighed, taking a sip of her soda. Even she had to admit the juxtaposition of the plastic pineapple cup and her own frown was comical.

“Her name’s Blake. She’s… She’s pretty amazing. She reads a lot of books and she’s strong. Brave. And she’s so funny and sweet and -,” she caught herself and fought against a blush. “She’s here with her son, Gren. He’s friends with Zinc.”

Ruby chuckled, “That into her, huh? You asked her out yet?”

Yang shook her head, leaving Ruby to tilt her head in confusion, “No, we’re just-- Blake has so much going on and I don’t want to make things more complicated for her. She’s not going to be sticking around, y’know? She’s just passing through.” 

For a moment Yang was at that gas station, watching, the smoke swirling from Blake’s lips as the neon glow of the sign reflected off her blood smeared skin. The only thing Yang could keep of people were memories. 

_Oh no_ , Yang thought, as Ruby’s brow furrowed by a faction. She was about to go off on a subject too heavy for Yang to deal with right then. It would be the same things Ruby had been trying to tell her over the phone for the last few years. Maybe she would face it later, but not now. Not at their reunion party.

“Besides, her son doesn’t seem to like me,” Yang quickly added with a forced shrug, “Funny, right? I’m usually great with kids.”

Ruby rolled her eyes, “It might have to do with you making eyes at his mom.” 

“Oh geez. You’re probably right.” Yang mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck.

She did not miss the concerned look Ruby gave her, her inquisitive mind likely already formulating some sort of plan. She was good at seeing right into people while keeping her cards close to her chest. _Too good_ , really, but Yang figured it was how Ruby coped with their childhood. 

She put some straws in the cups and nodded to Ruby before she could press Yang further on the matter, “I gotta go deliver these. Tag along?” 

The sisters made their way over to the children who were playing Mario Kart on the living room TV. 

“Hey y’all.” Yang smiled at them and offered Gren his cup, “Your mom said you’d like some fruit juice.” 

He furrowed his brows suspiciously at her but took the pineapple cup, tracing the broad G written on it. He sniffed at the contents, hesitantly taking a small sip before finally giving Yang a nod of approval. “Thank you, Yeng.”

Yang gestured to Ruby, “This is my lil sister, Ruby.”

Cheerfully, Ruby waved at him. “Hey there!”

Gren’s expression softened as he met her silver gaze but then closed off as his eyes fixated on the red rose on her shirt. 

“Hi.” He finally responded, giving her a small wave before turning back to the TV. 

Yang gently nudged Ruby as she spoke in a low whisper, “See what I mean?” 

“Maybe he’s just really wary.” Ruby suggested, “It seems he’s pretty guarded.”

Yang stopped by the buffet table, grabbing a summer roll and some fruit before they went to join the others. As they reached the couches they heard Pyrrha talking about the local primary school. 

“--enrolled for Kindergarten in two months. Gren could be enrolled too, he could be classmates with Zinc!” 

Blake seemed to tense at the suggestion, a miniscule fraction of a frown flashing over her features, “Perhaps, although I can’t say for sure. Given how temporary our living arrangement is I’ve been considering homeschooling him. He’s already quite good at reading.”

Yang plopped down on the seat beside Blake, casually handing her her pineapple cup with a smile. Blake took the drink with a grateful nod. 

“Have you considered putting down roots here? Patch is a good place to raise a family.” Jaune asked between bites of a chicken wing. 

Blake stared down at the cup in her hands, “I’m sure it is.”

Yang scoffed at Jaune, “That’s just your bias, I’ve been here most of my life and let me say it ain’t _that_ hot-- well okay, maybe in the summertime. But that’s a different kind of hot.” 

Beside her, Blake seemed to relax a little. Penny leaned forward on the sofa cushion as Ruby sat on the ground by her legs. “From the reports I’ve seen-- _too_ hot, how do you all stand it? It’s never that hot in Atlas.”

Weiss joined them, standing over Penny’s shoulder with her arms resting along the top of the sofa. Her nose crinkled slightly at the topic at hand, her own gripes about Patch’s heat and humidity already showing in her frown. Glu happily dove into Ruby’s lap and was awarded with generous belly rubs.

Yang shrugged, “Could be worse. Could be Vacuo hot.”

“Air conditioning.” Ren interjected. “We use air conditioning, Penny.”

“ICE CREAM!” Nora shouted, slamming her fist on the coffee table and making everyone flinch. She turned to Jaune and Pyrrha, “AND POOLS! When are you two going to get a pool in that backyard of yours?”

“Oh, goodness.” Pyrrha replied, “I’m not sure.”

Yang cleared her throat as she smiled at Blake, “Soooo, seeing how you’ve met everyone and we’re keen on saving the very best for last-” 

Weiss shot Yang a glare.

“-that’s my baby sister, Ruby.” Yang chuckled as Ruby waved.

“Oh, hello.” Blake uttered, briefly seeming off put by having so many sets of eyes on her. She smiled at Ruby, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Hey, Blake!” Ruby replied, shooting a pointed look at Yang before focusing on Blake, “I’ve heard a lot about you too.”

“You have?” 

“Yeah, maybe we can compare favorite books sometime.” 

“Ah,” Blake relaxed and let out a soft laugh, “that could take a week or more.” 

They caught up with each other on all of their latest adventures-- Pyrrha’s new set of yoga classes, Ren and Nora’s hiking trip, and the big project Ruby and her partners were proposing. Everyone had an inkling about what the project would entail, as the trio had focused on making accessible and affordable tools even while in school. Their modifications and ingenuity had resulted in Yang’s prosthetic afterall. Ruby avoided giving out too much detail as she wasn’t ready to commit yet, however, but was grateful for their friend’s offers to help her cause.

Yang melted into the cushions, basking in the moment. Seeing all her friends together made her feel so happy, even if it was a temporary, fleeting thing-- it filled her with a delighted high that made her feel invincible. She almost felt like they were teenagers again, unbroken and starry eyed for the future. Blake was mostly quiet aside from a few wry remarks that had everyone laughing. By the sparkle in Weiss’ eyes, it was obvious she liked her. Yang could relate.

It never took much to set Nora off, like a grenade loose from its pin, she was like to burst with excitement-- leaping up and explosively declaring that it was karaoke time. Even the kids paused their game and looked at her, startled by her sheer volume. Blake shared a brief glance with Yang, her expression asking _‘is she always like this?’._ Yang smirked at Blake in response and stood with Nora, clapping her hands together in agreement. 

Nora needed no more encouragement and immediately ran off to the karaoke machine and booted it up. They trailed after her and took their seats in a large semi-circle of assorted chairs around the machine. Blake still chose to sit next to Yang, either due to comfort or the fact that the seat put her close to an exit. Yang was kind of hoping it was the former.

Nora dramatically belted out the lyrics of _Eye of the Tiger_ and Jaune followed with what seemed to be entirely an instrumental until he sang the one word that appeared on screen, _margarita!_ After every song, Ruby would pester Weiss to go on next, aided by Penny’s eager puppy dog eyes, but Weiss was clearly content with sitting back until everyone else had their turn. Even Zinc scampered up to the mic stand, dragging Gren along behind them.

As the exuberant child sang about baby sharks, poor Gren just stared at everyone wide eyed and stiff as he fidgeted with his coin. Yang sent an encouraging smile his way. He blinked at her and looked at Blake who gave him a subtle nod. They seemed to have a nonverbal conversation, her expression open as if to tell him it was okay if he didn’t want to be up there. Gren puffed his cheeks up, a familiar determined expression appearing on his features as he very seriously ‘doo-doo’ed along with Zinc. They were overjoyed, taking Gren’s hand and twirling around him as they sang together, lights twinkling off their sequin dress. It was pretty cute, seeing Gren come out of his shell a little.

Blake cheered them on enthusiastically, standing to clap as the song came to an end. Gren scampered over to her and hugged her tightly, overwhelmed as everyone applauded their performance. His eyes were watery as he pulled back, but he was grinning with pride. Blake squeezed his shoulders as she smiled back, gently praising him. Yang stuck her hand out for a high five and he raised a brow at her but obliged, slapping her hand with impressive force. She laughed as he skipped back to Zinc and Oscar who were equally as hyped. 

The lights suddenly went out, causing the kids to shriek. When they came back on after a second, Jaune, Nora, Pyrrha, and Ren were all standing in the center together. Yang let out a whoop as it clicked, the old JNPR coordinated dance routine of their high school drama club days. Zinc gleefully joined in the shuffle with practiced ease while Oscar missed half the steps, confused but happy to be included. 

Finally, Weiss decided to grace the party with her platinum record grade vocals-- to which everyone decided to pair up and slow dance to. Gren was twirling Zinc this time, who was careful to avoid stumbling on his tail. Even Oscar was swaying to the music, cradling Glu in his arms. 

So, maybe Yang shouldn’t have been surprised to catch Blake’s eye. They were the only singles left, after all. She was trying very hard not to think about that when Blake confidently offered her hand in a courteous bow. So what if she felt her skin burn at the gesture as she tried her best to smoothly accept? She tried to ignore how her heart skipped a beat as she realized Blake was absurdly good at this sort of dance, leading Yang along despite being the shorter one between them. 

It didn’t mean anything. 

But with Blake’s hand resting on her hip and hand, amber eyes staring playfully and unafraid into her own-- Yang wanted it to mean something. 

* * *

_12:43pm_ **Rubes:** Kk, meet us at the downtown

cafe ☕️ tonight, disaster simp. real talk 🐸.

_12:45pm_ **Yang:** ya i gotchu nerd

_12:45pm_ **Rubes:** and dont forget your kit,

Penny wants to 👀 🔧

also is Blake free 😏

_12:46pm_ **Yang:** no 

_12:47pm_ **Rubes:** so you asked or do you 

already know her sched 👀

_12:54pm_ **Yang:** >:(

* * *

The bell chimed as Yang stepped into the cafe. Ruby waved at her from a booth by the window, the orange hues of the setting sun washing over her and her partners. Weiss barely lifted her gaze from her scroll despite Ruby nudging her. Penny, on the other hand, was bouncing in her seat where she was sandwiched by the window. 

With a grin, Yang strode over, flopping down into the bench opposite of them, “Sup!” 

Ruby pushed a slip her way, their order number printed prominently on the paper, “Hey slowpoke, we ordered the drinks already. Couldya pick them up when the number’s called?”

Yang rolled her eyes but took the slip, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get them.” 

She pulled the bag off her shoulder and placed it on the table. Ruby opened it, taking out some of the worn and damaged spare panels from Yang’s prosthetic to inspect as Penny unrolled a kit of tools. 

“Don’t tell me you decided to stick your arm in a disposal or something _again_ ,” Weiss sighed as she continued typing away on her scroll, “These aren’t cheap parts.” 

“If it isn’t durable for daily activities then what’s the point? You guys are gonna have a long line of repairs otherwise.”

“Daily activities,” Weiss scoffed, “as if any average person would be as careless or reckless as you are. Yang-proofing your prosthetic-”

“-Is a sure fire way to ensure that it will withstand anyone’s way of life!” Yang interjected with a shrug. She detached her arm and waved it at them. “It’s my job as a product tester-- besides, it’s not like I haven’t contributed to some of the fine tuning. I think the mobility on it is almost perfect. I was gonna heat test it the other day but Blake yelled at me.”

“Your input has been much appreciated!” Penny nodded eagerly as Ruby took Yang’s prosthetic. 

“Thank you, Penny. This is why you’re my favorite.”

“She’s just being polite,” Ruby added as she plugged wires into the arm to take diagnostic readings. She glanced up at Yang with that expression again, setting dread crawling up Yang’s gut, “Speaking of _‘your job’_... Have you thought about joining us for real?”

Yang shifted uncomfortably, dropping her gaze to the wooden table, “Rubes, you know I’m not really equipped for that. I don’t have any fancy degrees or certifications-- and besides, I’m getting by just fine at the shop. Y’know I’ll help you with anything I can but something long term is just...”

“You don’t need any of those things to qualify, Yang,” Ruby pointed out, “you have more than enough experience and raw skill with mechanical engineering and jury rigging. We really would love to have you with us. You don’t have to settle fo-”

“I’m fine,” Yang stated, “Really, Ruby. This is just my lot in life, okay? I’m fine with that.”

“But it doesn’t _have_ to be.” 

It was hard facing down what Yang knew to be true while Ruby gave her _that_ look, full of determination and concern. It was even harder with Weiss and Penny backing her up with their own pity filled expressions. 

“We’re not saying to drop everything,” Weiss added, “Only to consider letting us hire you, even if it's just as a contractor or for commission. For our next stage, we’re going to need all the help we can get. Even if it’s your stubborn ass.” 

Despite the way it made Yang clench her fist in frustration, Weiss’ words drew a halfhearted laugh from her. Half the reason she appreciated Weiss so much was that she wasn’t one to sugar coat things. She was always reliable to call Yang out on her bullshit and sometimes that made the sting of pity more tolerable.

Yang reluctantly agreed, “Okay. I’ll think about it. A little freelance work that helps y’all is good for everyone I guess.”

Ruby grinned, pumping her fist, “Yes! It will be great!” 

The number was called, snapping them out of the conversation. Yang stood with a jolt, nearly bumping the table in the process.

Ruby glanced up at her, “Aw gingersnaps, do you want your arm back?”

“Nah,” Yang shrugged, “I’ve got it _hand_ led!” 

“Please take a detour at the dumpster and drop yourself inside,” Weiss snapped with a glare.

Yang winked at her offended glower and laughed as she walked towards the pickup counter. The smile fell off her face once she saw the barista. 

“Oh, Yang. Hey.” Blake raised a brow at her before turning her attention back to making a smoothie. 

Yang picked her jaw off the floor with a cough, “Hah, wow hi, Blake.” 

The corners of Yang’s mouth turned upward, a blush burning across her face because _holy hell_ did Blake look _good_ in the cafe’s stylish uniform. Something about Blake in vests suited her very well-- a near lethal combination in Yang’s opinion, although the brown and red hues were definitely different on her. 

“You uh, come here often?” 

“I work here, Yang.” Blake replied dryly, though she smiled faintly as she fastened a top on the smoothie. 

Yang shot her a finger gun, faltering slightly when she remembered she was down an arm. She quickly put it down to pick up the tray of drinks.

“Right! Right, ah, thanks!” She paused, tapping her boot on the tiled floor for a moment before flashing Blake a lopsided grin, “Text you later...?”

Blake smirked and gave her a nod, a softness reflected in her gaze that Yang hoped she wasn’t just imagining.

She was all silent fury when she returned the table, gently placing the tray in the center before leaning over and ruffling Ruby’s hair. “You did that on purpose, you ass!” 

“Augh! Did what?” Ruby groaned, slapping at Yang’s arm. Weiss jabbed Yang in the gut with her pen, causing the blonde to wince and release Ruby.

“You **knew** Blake was the barista!” Yang growled before turning and sinking into her side of the booth. “Brothers, that was embarrassing!” 

“Did she catch you… unarmed?” Penny asked with a cheerful grin. Weiss and Ruby gave her horrified looks. Even Yang grimaced at her. Penny glanced around at them, confusion washing over her freckled features, “Did I not do it correctly?” 

“You did!” Ruby said reassuringly, her hand gently touching Penny’s shoulder. 

Weiss frowned and shook her head, “Yes, you did, Penny. Please never do it again.” 

“Ah. I find the word play involved quite fascinating.”

“Y’all didn’t have to set me up, I already said I’d think about it,” Yang grumbled.

“We didn’t.” Weiss replied, folding her hands on the table. “Not everything is about you and your lesbian problems.”

Ruby plucked her fruit loaded smoothie from the tray and gestured to a photo hanging above their booth, “We picked this place because it belongs to a friend we made back at Atlas!”

Yang blinked up at the photo. The four girls were bundled up in puffy winter coats and surrounded by falling snow. She raised her brows, recognizing the gleeful Faunus in the photo from freshman year of high school. Velvet had been one of the cool upperclassmen-- her photos filling the yearbook and school hallways. She was _valedictorian_ of her year if Yang remembered correctly.

“Oh darn, that's awesome!”

Penny nodded enthusiastically as she stirred her rainbow and unicorn themed shake, “Velvet helped us out with some projects! She has a 3D printer and got some of our prototype designs functional. She’s so nice!”

“Which!” Ruby began excitedly, “brings us to the reason I wanted you to meet us here. The details are still being hammered out-- but we’re planning on starting right here in Patch!”

Yang gasped, nearly spilling her own frappuccino, “Here?”

“Yeah! We’re moving back home!”

“Really? But-- what about Atlas?” 

Penny promptly lifted her finger, “There is already a project like this run by my father in Atlas to help out the community in Mantle! He helped us put together a plan. After all, there should be more options across Remnant for people to get technology like prosthetics.” 

“Ooh,” Yang replied, “but why Patch? Why not somewhere like mainland Vale?”

Ruby outstretched her arms, gesturing around the inclusive cafe, “Patch-- sentimentality aside, is a place people go to lick their wounds. Veterans come here to retire. It’s got a decent base of people who could benefit from what we’re going to provide. Then we will spread to more locations to help as many people as we can.”

“Since our decision, Velvet has agreed to help fund the project.” Weiss added, “the community is quite important to her and our goals are mutual.”

“We want to make the world a better place, one neighborhood at a time!” Ruby concluded, her face still filled with the youthful idealism she nurtured as a child.

“Wow…” Yang blinked at them as their tag team sales pitch slowly sunk in.

She awkwardly sipped her drink as the trio looked at her with baited excitement. She was conflicted at the news-- coming back to Patch was always synonymous to a death sentence to her. Had she got out like she intended to before the accident she would have never looked back. So when Weiss had suggested Ruby go with her to Atlas for schooling all those years ago, Yang had never expected them to return... 

But here they were with their smiles and sparkling eyes, and Yang couldn’t help the grin growing on her own face. 

“Wow! So you guys are really doing this, huh? That’s so great!” She leaned forward and added in a loud whisper, “Patch won’t know what hit em.”

“Neither will Atlas…” Weiss chuckled lowly. 

Penny passed Yang her arm back, a new digital interface installed on the adjustment panel. Humming, Yang reattached the arm and tested the smooth articulation of the joints, “Ahh, beautiful.” 

“The panel should give you better manual control if you want to to be more malleable or firm with your grasp.” Ruby smiled as Yang curiously tapped at the interface.

“Neat! It’s like flipping on precision mode on one of them gaming mice.” Yang chuckled, “Thanks guys! Have y’all picked a location yet?” 

Penny pointed out of the window, across the street a ‘for lease’ sign was stuck to the glass door. After they finished their drinks, they made their way over to the vacant building. Ruby made a show of pulling the key from her pocket and waving it around proudly before Weiss snatched it from her while rolling her eyes about how Ruby _always_ had to do this every time they looked at a building. Yang looked around and noted the entry and exit points out of habit. It seemed like a good, sturdy, and secure place. 

They were chatting about accessibility and community outreach and all Yang could think about was security. _Seen worse happen to a store this size_ , she thought with a sigh. A youth whittled away on petty thefts and fighting rings between the docks and the mainland had left her cautious... It wasn’t a stretch to consider that _someone_ would be interested in stealing their technology for their own means once word got out. It had been a couple of decades since something _big_ happened in Patch itself, however, and that might let them start in relative safety. 

Still, Yang smiled as they talked about their ideas for the layout, where they would put the counter and chairs. They really wanted to do some good here, lay a foundation instead of just escaping. Yang should have known better, it was Ruby after all. Maybe Patch wasn’t so bad.

* * *

_10:34pm_ **Blake** : Are you stalking me?

 _10:34pm_ **Yang** : no! im not, i swear!!

_10:35pm_ **Blake** : Hm.

I don’t know… seems you’re 

everywhere I am these days.

_10:36pm_ **Yang** : ykno what they say, small world, right?

pretty wild tho… what are the chances

we’d meet again after all these years?

_10:37pm_ **Blake** : Lucky coincidence maybe?

_10:37pm_ **Yang** : yeah, maybe :)

actually it turns out that rubes

is friends with your boss lady.

that’s why we ended up there.

 _10:38pm_ **Blake** : Ah, so it was business talk with 

Ruby and her girlfriends?

_10:39pm_ **Yang** : oh they aren’t her girlfriends.

they’re like, a squash patch. 

_10:39pm_ **Blake** : A squash patch? Do you 

mean zucchinis? A QPR? 

_10:39pm_ **Yang** : yeah that

_10:40pm_ **Blake** : Aw, that’s sweet. I’ve read

about those before. They seem nice, ideal even.

_10:39pm_ **Yang** : for sure. i’m happy

they have each other.

* * *

It was a few days after the meeting with Ruby and her partners when Yang parked her truck next to Blake’s minivan, the metallic surfaces reflecting the golden glow of the evening sun. She cheerfully made her way up the apartment complex stairs, whistling a little tune despite the fatigue weighing her body down. Blake had called her earlier that day when Yang was at work, asking if she could come over for a few hours to babysit Gren. 

Her gait slowed as she reached Blake’s door and she took in a deep breath. Yang looked over the clothes she had hastily thrown on after work; a cozy flannel and weathered denim jeans. She frowned, nudging some cigarette butts by the doormat with her leather boot. Yang knocked on the door. Blake opened it after a brief pause, a smile already bright on her lips.

“Hey Yang.”

Yang couldn’t help but grin back, “Hey yourself.”

Blake looked radiant even while she was just in a plain button up shirt and slacks. Maybe it was just because it was her and how wonderfully she wore her happiness as she made her way to her kitchen cabinets. A small rack by the door held two dark pairs of shoes accompanied by much smaller velcro strapped brown shoes-- obviously belonging to Gren. Yang tugged her boots off to carefully put them on the rack. 

She slipped a little in her socks as she followed Blake to where she was shuffling in the kitchen. Yang rested her elbows on the counter as she reluctantly tore her eyes from Blake’s back, surveying the apartment. Some boxes were still neatly stacked in the corner along with sparse furniture, frayed and scuffed on the edges. It looked like she was ready to leave at a moment's notice. 

“Thanks for coming. I know it was pretty short notice but no one else was available,” Blake said, breaking through Yang’s thoughts. 

She met Blake’s eyes across the counter with a smile, “Ah, yeah! It’s no problem.”

“Here’s a list of Gren’s favorite things if he gets fussy. Hopefully he doesn’t make too much trouble.” She passed Yang a note.

“We’ll try not to burn the house down,” Yang smirked as she skimmed over the note and tucked it into her breast pocket. 

Blake rolled her eyes, “I’m starting to think you’re a bad influence.” 

“Me?” Yang asked, planting a hand upon her chest with a gasp, “I’m a model citizen!”

Blake scoffed despite the affectionate curl to her lips. Her eyes flickered between Yang’s and her hands briefly. She came around the counter in light, measured steps, playfully concealing something behind her back. “Actually, I do have something for you.”

“You do?” Yang raised her brows in surprise, “You really didn’t have to get me-,” A bag of fancy coffee beans was thrust in front of her. “...coffee?”

“Yeah.” Blake put it down by Yang’s elbow, “It was highly recommended by my coworker, Coco. She has been teaching me her brewing secre- what?”

Yang’s jaw was hanging open. She cleared her throat as Blake regarded her quizzically. 

“Coco?” Yang repeated, “You mean _Coco Adel?_ ”

“Um. Coco Scarlatina act-”

Yang made a strange sound between snorting and laughing, “ _She got married?_ That’s amazing! Ahah I get it now-- see, she was this iconic heartbreaker back in highschool until she started dating Velvet, cause you know how highschool gossip is--” 

Blake just nodded along slowly, as if she didn’t really relate but was too polite to disagree. 

“ _Everyone_ was taking bets on how long it would take for them to break up. Looks like they proved them all wrong. Good for them!” Yang picked up the bag and examined the packaging while adding sheepishly, “Coco was kinda my gay idol back then so maaaaybe I was a _little_ invested.” 

Blake raised a brow, remarking dryly, “Suddenly a lot of things are making sense…” 

Yang laughed, reverently cradling the coffee bag. “Thank you Blake, I will cherish this gift.”

She nodded, tucking her hands behind her back, “Yes, well, I appreciate… you and I know you like coffee so I thought it was appropriate.” 

Yang’s expression softened. She bit her lip as she tried to form the words to say but it seemed the moment had already passed. Blake looked away and made her way to the doorway to put on her work shoes.

“Gren! Come out, koun. I’ve got to leave,” Blake called.

From the opposite hallway, the boy emerged sluggishly with a pronounced pout on his round features. He glanced briefly at Yang and his frown deepened. Blake kneeled down to hug him, placing a kiss on his forehead, “Be good, I love you.” 

“I love you, mai,” He repeated, his small hands moving from her shoulders to cup her face, “Be safe.” 

“I will.” Blake smiled and nodded towards Yang. She gave him an encouraging wave as Blake continued, “Yang will take care of you while I’m out so if you need anything, let her know. You can trust her.”

“Okay.”

Blake stood and slung her bag over her shoulder with a final wave before she left. Gren stayed still, staring at the door long after it closed behind her. 

Yang took another look at the list and cleared her throat awkwardly, “So kiddo, what do you like to do?”

Gren looked down, shoving his hands into the pockets of his oversized hoodie. “I was playing my Switch,” he grumbled. 

“Neat!” Yang grinned, “Couldya show me? We could play together.”

Gren still wouldn’t face her but he pulled the neon green controllers out of his pocket to show her. They were decorated with faded stickers of pokemon, “I guess so.” 

He sighed as he went to the small tv in the living area where the Switch was set in the dock. He handed her a controller when he returned to the couch, scrambling up and nestling himself in the furthest corner from her. _Yikes,_ Yang thought, _this kid really doesn’t like me._

They played a few rounds of the racing game in relative silence, the sound effects from the tv and the mashing of buttons were the only things keeping it from consuming them entirely. Gren huffed again and Yang glanced over at him. Despite his grumpy countenance, he still looked rather adorable curled up in his large green hoodie. 

“What’s troubling you, Gren?” Yang inquired softly, “Is there anything I can do?” 

He stiffened and then frowned at his controller, “I wanted to play with Zonk.”

“Ah,” Yang nodded, “but the Arcs are out of town this week.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo. Do you want to call them? I’m sure Zinc misses you too.” 

Gren seemed to think over it for a bit before shaking his head, sending dark curls bouncing. He won another race. On the screen, a green dinosaur avatar danced with the trophy while Yang rolled in at third place. 

“You’re really good at this.” Yang chuckled.

Gren hummed quietly yet his stomach growled loudly.

“Oh, dang.” It had only been about an hour according to Yang’s watch. She shot him a concerned look, “Are you hungry? I can make you something.” 

He shifted back and forth in his seat indecisively before he uttered, “PB & J?”

“Sure thing!” 

Yang rubbed her hands together as she went into the kitchen, the boy trailing behind her. She checked the cabinets, finding cans of tuna fish, salmon, and various broths. Inside the fridge were bundles of vegetables which Gren wrinkled his nose at. He tugged at Yang’s shirt as he pointed at the second row. After shuffling some containers of paste and spices out of the way, Yang let out a triumphant cheer and pulled out a jar of peanut butter and orange marmalade. 

Gren gave her a nod of approval and a thumbs up. Yang chuckled and found half a loaf of bread by a jar of rice on the counter. She washed her hands and laid out the ingredients on the countertop as Gren peered from her side. He seemed a bit antsy still, rubbing his coin between his fingers as his other hand flexed restlessly by his side.

“Crust off?” she asked gently, hoping that a soothing tone would ease his anxiety. 

A soft voice replied, “Yes, please.” 

Yang smiled as she spread the marmalade on the bread, adding the peanut butter on the opposite slices and smoothly halving them and shaving off the crust. She set the butter knife down and set the first sandwich on the plate, reaching for the roll of napkins. After wrapping the next sandwich up she turned to hand it to Gren. He was staring down at his hands. Then he looked up, his piercing amber eyes finally meeting hers with a mixture of fear and ferocity. Her eyes widened as they caught the glint of the butter knife now clutched in his hands as he pointed it at her. 

_Yikes._

_This kid_ **_really_ ** _doesn’t like me._

“Uh, Gren?” She glanced at the vacant spot where she left the knife and cursed inwardly. She had forgotten he could jump unusually high, but then again, she hadn’t anticipated this series of events. “Gren, dear, please give me the knife.” Yang said gently, reaching towards him with her prosthetic. 

He gripped it tighter, his hands trembling. “No.”

She slowly kneeled down and held her hands up placatingly, “Why not? How are you feeling?”

Yang was more worried about what the knife could do to Gren than what it could do to her but yanking it out of his hands seemed too rough an action to take just yet. She tried again, keeping her voice calm in hopes of coaxing him into giving the knife to her, “Have I threatened you?” 

“I…” he faltered and then grit his teeth, growling to strengthen his resolve and steady his hands, “I won’t let you hurt her.” 

“Who? Your mom?” 

He nodded, his glare intensifying. It was uncanny in a bittersweet way, how much he reminded Yang of Blake all those years ago-- when she too had threatened Yang with a knife. But she had been afraid then and now so was he.

Yang let her hands rest in her lap as her expression softened, “Gren, your mom’s really strong. You don’t have to worry about her. She could kick my butt if she wanted to.”

She carefully reached up with her prosthetic and let the knife slide against the padded surface of her palm, “I promise I won’t hurt her.” 

A wave of emotions washed over Gren’s face, leaving him somewhere between doubtful and relieved. He relaxed the knife as he tugged at his lip, his brows furrowed, “...you promise?” 

“I pinky promise you.” Yang offered, sticking out her pinky. His cheeks puffed up at that, brows raised in curiosity. 

“Okay.” He finally spoke in a shaky exhale, “okay, pinky swear cross your heart and hope to die.” 

“I promise,” Yang repeated firmly, “I won’t hurt her or you. And I won’t let anyone else hurt you two either.” 

Finding her vow acceptable, he pulled one hand from the knife handle to curl around her pinky and squeezed. He finally let go of the knife and she deposited it in the sink. 

Yang breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, tears gathering at his eyes. “Are you mad at me?” 

She gently squeezed Gren’s shoulder, “No, I’m not mad. I’m glad that we got to talk about this. It’s not nice of you to point a knife at people, though. You could have hurt someone, including yourself. We would be very sad if that happened. You should _never_ threaten anyone unless you absolutely have to. Do you understand?” 

“Yes. I was bad.” Gren uttered as he ducked his head down in shame, his little hands balled into fists. 

“You aren’t bad, kiddo, the action you chose was bad. You can talk to us about how you feel without going to violence. You’ve gotta remember; niceness before knives.”

He sniffled, wiping an escaping tear with his sleeve, “Okay.” 

Yang ruffled his hair and stood up to hand him the plate of sandwiches.

“Go ahead and sit over on the couch and eat, kay buddy? I’ll be over in a moment. Then, maybe we can play Smash?”

Gren took the plate and made his way back to the couch, his tail dragging behind him. Yang leaned on the counter with a heavy sigh. Well, she could finally add ‘five year old with a knife’ to the list of people who had threatened her. How would she even begin to explain this incident to Blake? 

She rubbed the back of her neck as she put everything away and returned to the couch. Gren chewed at his sandwich, sending her nervous glances every so often. Her attempts to ease him with warm smiles only seemed to work partially. 

“Is Yoshi your favorite?” Yang asked, gesturing towards the tv. Though they had swapped out to a different game, Gren had selected the same character to be his avatar.

Gren nodded and offered meekly, “I like green… And Yoshi has a tail-- like me.” 

“Aww,” Yang chuckled, “I get that, I only play characters that are yellow.” To emphasize her point, she selected the cute yellow dog to play.

“My hair totally looks like that when I try to tie it.” she added in a conspiratorial whisper.

To her relief, Gren snickered. 

He was rather good at Smash too-- but this game was one Yang was more familiar with. She was kind of a veteren, having played the various versions of the game with Ruby growing up. Gren didn’t button mash, he chose his openings carefully with an intense look of concentration on his face. He even stuck his tongue out as they struggled over depleting health bars. They laughed as he finished off Yang’s character with an egg. 

After a few wins and a handful of losses, Gren poked Yang’s arm with the edge of his controller. She would have barely noticed if not for the dull _thunk_ it made against the metal. She blinked down at the controller and raised a brow at him questionably.

“...Is it real?” he asked.

“My arm?”

“Is it like-- a glove? Or. Or are you part robot?”

Yang chuckled, “I guess you could call it a robot arm. It’s a prosthetic-- a synthetic tool.”

Gren gasped, his eyes wide in wonder, “What happened to your old arm? Did it fall off?”

“Yeah that tends to happen sometimes.”

“That’s so cool!” he squeaked, scooting closer to prod at the arm, “I thought that only happened to fantasy characters!”

“That’s my secret,” Yang smirked, “I’m a fantasy hero, don’t tell anyone.”

Gren scoffed, “I’m telling everyone.” 

“Oh no! I’ll be ruined--”

“Besides, if it was a **_real_** secret,” Gren stated as a matter of factly, his eyes shut as he raised his nose proudly, “you hid it very terribly. I could hide a real secret better than you and I am only five and three quarters years old!” 

Yang laughed, slumping back into her side of the couch. “Okay, sure, you probably could. I am awful at subtlety. Everyone knows that.” 

At around 8:30pm Yang started to usher Gren to bed. He was easier to talk to now, grabbing her by the end of her flannel and escorting her around the apartment. He was proud of the few things he called his and once encouraged, would excitedly begin to ramble the history of every little thing. A bear shaped rock he found when Blake took him camping earlier in the year. His Yoshi themed toothbrush that he got as a christmas present. The aged stuffed sloth named Clampy that he’s had as long as he could remember. Gren was happy to tell Yang about the adventures he had with Clampy, swinging out of a burning castle, climbing up perilous towers for hidden treasures, the good world saving stuff. 

When she finally had him tucked in, he cuddled Clampy tight in his arms and grabbed Yang’s wrist.

“Wait.”

Yang chuckled, “Y’know, normally I’m the one telling the bedtime stories.” 

The wonder in his eyes from before faded into something more sullen. He mulled over his words for a long moment before finally speaking.

“My dad... he’s a bad man. Do you think I’ll be bad too?”

Yang’s eyes widened in shock as she leaned over him, gently cupping his cheek as she stared into his eyes.

“No,” she said without a doubt, “your parents do not define you, hon. You make those choices about who you want to be. Trust me, I know.”

His lip quivered, “How?”

She gave him a gentle smile as she caressed his temple, “My mother is a bad woman. But I’m not her. I’m _me_ and I turned out alright.”

“Your mai?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Yang sighed and sat on the edge of Gren’s bed. She squeezed her right arm, her fingers tracing over the scarred connection merging metal and skin as she let out a bitter laugh. “I was smaller than you when she left me. I spent so many years trying to find her-- just to understand, to know _why_. When I finally did, well…” 

She turned back to look in his eyes, “Even at my lowest I’m nothing like her. So don’t you worry, Gren, you’ll never be like your father.”

Gren watched her for a little longer. His grasp on her wrist was looser but he didn’t withdraw so she stayed until he fell asleep. Yang quietly stepped out of the room and turned off the light.

In the kitchen, she paced across the tiled floor. Raven’s voice still grated on the edge of her mind and it only made her phantom pain act up more. She opened the fridge with a huff, her eyes lingering on the few beers tucked in the very back. Yang reached for a lime soda instead, taking several big gulps of it before sighing and burying her face in her hands as she collapsed on the couch.

She had been wrong. 

She thought Gren was just a little quirky and socially awkward like Ruby-- but no, it was more than that; he was lost and angry like Yang had been as a child. It swirled up in her gut and pried at her chest, clawing away at her wounded heart. If she could talk to her younger self, what could she even say to help? Would it change the ending?

Yang took another swig of the soda, savoring the burn as the carbonation hit her throat. She had no idea how she would talk to Blake about all of this. The next twenty eight minutes were spent in a tornado of spiraling thoughts, memories she wished she didn’t have, and the ever dry ache of her throat. Despite distracting herself with memes and videos of cute pets, she still felt uneasy and off balance. She dreaded Blake coming home to find her like this.

Finally, lock in the door began to click from the outside and suddenly time felt real once more. Shuffling and the light rustling of Blake’s bag echoed down the hall as the door opened. She put down her bag with a soft _fump_ on the tiles as she took off her shoes. Yang stood a few feet away, wiping her sweaty palm on her jeans as she shifted her weight in anticipation. Though Blake’s movements were tired, she glanced up at Yang with happiness in her eyes, crinkling around the edges along with the small smile she wore. Yang cursed herself for having to be the one to take that joy from her. 

“Hey.” Yang said softly.

“Hey yourself,” Blake replied, her tone low but playful. 

Yang swallowed hard and looked away, barely able to handle that sort of softness from her. It didn’t take much to clue Blake in that something was off. She moved forward carefully, sliding a hand onto Yang’s shoulder. It was only then that Yang realized she was gripping her right arm again.

“Is something… wrong?” Blake asked, her golden eyes peering into Yang’s with concern. 

“No!” Yang uttered in a jolt, dropping her arms to the side, “I-I mean we’re good. Gren is good. He went to sleep about half an hour ago. With, uh, Clampy.” 

Blake relaxed slightly at that yet didn’t remove her hand. Her touch was warm over the fabric of Yang’s flannel and it almost felt soothing. She tugged Yang over to the couch and had her sit down and then she went into the bedrooms to check on Gren. When she returned, Yang was where she left her, anxious and fidgeting. Blake sat down beside her.

“What is it, Yang?” 

Yang rubbed the back of her neck with a sigh, “Well I kinda messed up earlier and left out a butter knife when I was making Gren sandwiches. I set it down for a second to grab a napkin but then Gren had the knife and he, well… He tried to threaten me with it.” 

“He threatened you?” Blake asked, offended disbelief coloring her tone. She crossed her arms expectantly.

“Well, I mean, that was his intention but I was a lot more concerned about him than me-- he was afraid I was going to hurt you and wanted to protect you.”

Blake’s piercing gaze was back in full force, burning away the softness she had worn so easily before. She remembered the woman throwing accusations at Gren at the park and wondered if it happened to the boy more often than not-- nameless faces planting in his head that whoever he was was predestined and out of his control. Yang continued through the recollection of events, trying her best to explain what happened and how it was handled. She answered any questions Blake posed even though she still regarded Yang suspiciously.

“... And then he said, ‘my dad is a bad man, do you think I’ll be bad too?’”

Blake’s ears shot up, a crack appearing in the facade of her stony countenance. Her ears pinned back slowly as she leaned closer, “What did you tell him?”

“I said, ‘no’, that who he is isn’t determined by blood. I told him a little about… Raven and how I’m not her so I know he won’t be like that either.” 

Blake looked away from Yang with a frown. Between them seemed to be a gaping rift full of tension and Yang had no idea how to cross it. 

“It’s true.” Blake murmured, her hushed voice wrapped in barbed wire, “Gren’s father is a terrible man. I told him only because I needed him to understand why we’ve had to keep moving.”

“Is he White Fang…?” 

“Yes. He’s an influential leader of his own chapter. He hasn’t given up chasing us. No matter what I do or how much I run… he’s always there, like a wolf clawing at our door.” Blake pulled her knees to her chin with a sigh, “Maybe I deserve it, but I can’t stand what it’s doing to Gren.”

“Is he really that bad?” Yang asked, earning a glare from Blake. “At least he actually wants to know his son, which is a lot more than I can say about other parents.”

“You don’t know him,” Blake started in a low growl, “you don’t know the sort of person he wanted to shape Gren into-- the sort of person he almost shaped _me_ into! I’m sorry you have issues with your mother but this isn’t the same thing.”

Blake stood up, running a hand through her hair before turning to face her, “Maybe she left you to keep you safe from that life-- did you ever think of that?”

Knuckles turned white, held tightly in her lap as Yang stared back at Blake. She was nearly trembling from the rage building inside, the world beginning to tilt in her reddening vision. Whether it was fury at her mother or at Blake she couldn’t even tell anymore.

Blake slumped, hugging herself tightly as she muttered, “I would do the same if it meant Gren could have a better life.”

“No,” the word slipped out through Yang’s gritted teeth, “Don’t say that.”

Blake shook her head, “I was _twelve_ when he took me, Yang. I don’t even know what high school is like outside of books. I have no idea what I’m doing… but I’ll keep working and fighting and running because there’s no way in hell I’ll let him take Gren.” 

The shock of Blake’s admission rattled Yang out of her spiral. Her anger was already rearing its head at whoever the fuck hurt Blake-- Gren’s father. The pressure that built inside was pouring out as she opened her mouth to speak.

“Gods. I’m so sorry. I… I had no idea. That’s horrible. No one deserves that, Blake.”

Blake scoffed as if to say that was a massive understatement and Yang agreed, unfortunately finding herself at a loss for better words. But then Yang caught the glimmer of the tear streaming down Blake’s cheek, her tense shoulders jerking not just from fury but from her own grief. 

“I’m sorry too,” Blake managed to say, “for what I said regarding your mother.”

Yang shrugged, ignoring the cracks that still ruptured at the thought, “Eh. You were right.” Cautiously, she touched Blake’s shoulder, adding a gentle caress with her thumb. “This isn’t the same thing. First of all, Raven doesn’t care about anyone but herself. You’re the opposite-- everything you do is selfless. You’re a good mother, Blake.”

Blake relaxed slightly between Yang’s touch and her words. When she finally lifted her head to meet Yang’s eyes, the enormous weight of her struggles was clear on her face. Blake looked so _tired._ Even when Blake was standing still, her mind was still running, worrying, counting and calculating-- for so many years. Yang cursed herself for being so blind, for assuming the worst of Blake’s troubles ended six years ago that night.

“If that bastard ever comes here…” Yang trailed off, clenching her metal hand into a fist, “I won’t let him touch either of you.” 

A deep sadness swirled in the amber depths of Blake’s eyes, her unmoving lips spoke of inevitability. It was a fact they both knew. Eventually he would catch up to them and Blake would be gone and Yang would be left behind, like always. 

But Gods, what she wouldn’t do to break the cycle. 

Blake took a step closer. It was akin to that brief moment when the snow began to break apart and tumble down the mountain peak, slow but grand and devastating as Blake crumbled into Yang. Her forehead pressed against Yang’s shoulder as another shudder ran through her. Yang unclenched her fist and wrapped her arm around Blake, tugging her close as she braced herself against the other woman’s weight. A hand clutched at her back, fingers digging into the fabric of her flannel as the last of Blake’s foundations collapsed. 

They stood clasped in a tight embrace for what felt like an eternity. Carefully, Yang guided her back to the couch so they could sit down. Blake was still leaning against her, the physical exhaustion of the day coupled with the emotional upheaval leaving her drained. As her breathing evened out, they fell into sequence with each other, each inhale and exhale lulling them somewhere else. Somewhere safe. Her hair was so soft as Yang gently ran her fingers through the dark curls.

Her voice was a low crackle from under Yang’s chin. “I’m sorry for keeping you. It’s so late already and you probably have a lot of work to do tomorrow…”

“It’s alright,” Yang whispered, “there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately the next update is gonna be a while, there's a lot going on right now between covid and project deadlines.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been tossing ideas around for this au since January so I'm pretty excited to finally start posting it. I've decided to be self indulgent and have Blake be part Khmer \o/  
> Words like koun means 'baby', mai means 'mom', jaow is "grandchild", and oum is like an aunt who is older than the parent.  
> Big shoutout to my bestie and beta [Ari](https://angstfire.tumblr.com) who screams into the void with me ♥  
> Find me at [erughostcat.tumblr.com](https://erughostcat.tumblr.com)  
> [and here's a playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4qAB7hLhShUgiPKjlc5Cvj?si=jQlP2kQ1TsSNyRu6TeoFZA)


End file.
